Mark Krause Daniel Corts Stephen Smith An Introduction To Psychological

About Revel and This Course
Pearson Education
About This Course

From the Authors
It is our privilege to welcome you to the third Canadian edition of An
Introduction to Psychological Science. We would not have had this
opportunity without the support and feedback of the instructors who
have adopted this book for their classes, and from their students (and our
own) who have learned from this book. Why is it time for a third edition?
As you should already know, psychological science progresses quickly,
and we want to ensure we represent significant advances or theoretical

challenges that are happening right now. In addition, there are examples
and applications of psychological principles in the media all of the time,
and we want to include these in the learning experience, whether in the
text or in online activities. While keeping the book up-to-date with the
latest research and current events, we also want to improve on our
presentation of classic studies, research methods, and so on that remain
in the foundation of our discipline. This is where the feedback from our
readers has been so important. Thanks to everyone who has shared what
they have enjoyed about this book as well as what we might be able to do
better—we believe we have, in fact, done better!
Despite the updates and fine-tuning, the heart of this project has always
been scientific literacy. The term indicates that memorizing facts should
not be the ultimate objective of your introduction to psychology; instead
literacy emphasizes your ability to encounter, understand, and evaluate
scientific information. Scientific literacy comprises four interrelated
components:
1. Knowledge: What do we know about a phenomenon?
2. Scientific explanation: How does science explain the psychological
process we are examining?
3. Critical thinking: How do we interpret and evaluate all types of

information, including scientific reporting?
4. Application: How does research apply to our own lives and to society?
To make scientific literacy the core of our book and the Revel experience,
we developed content, quizzes, activities, and other features with the
scientific literacy model (shown in the graphic) as a guide. This

represents how the four competencies each represent a different facet of
scientific literacy, whereas the multidirectional arrows show their

interdependence. In other words, you can’t use scientific information
(Application) if you don’t fully understand it (Knowledge), or if there are
not sound data and reasoning to support it (Scientific Explanation and

Critical Thinking).
An Introduction to Psychological Science presents students with a model for
scientific literacy; this model forms the core of how this book is written
and organized. We believe a scientific literacy perspective and model will
prove useful in addressing two course needs we often hear from

instructors—to provide students with a systematic way to categorize the
overwhelming amount of information they are confronted with, and to

cultivate their curiosity and help them understand the relevance,
practicality, and immense appeal of psychological science.
Psychological science is in a privileged position to help students hone
their scientific literacy. It is both a rigorous scientific discipline and a field

that studies the most complex of all phenomena: the behavioural,
cognitive, and biological basis of behaviour. With this focus on

behaviour, one can rightly argue that psychology resides at the hub or
core of numerous other scientific disciplines; it also shares connections
with neuroscience, education, and public health, to name a few linkages.

From this perspective, the knowledge acquired by studying psychological
science should transfer and apply to many other fields. This is great news
when you consider that psychology is one of the few science courses that
many undergraduates will ever take.
In the third Canadian edition of this textbook, we have continued our
emphasis on helping the readers organize and assess their thinking and
learning about the material. Each module includes learning objectives of
increasing depth (knowing, understanding, analyzing, and applying) as
well as quiz items that assess learning at each level. We have also
included interactive materials using the Revel platform (found in the e-
version of this book). Together, these tools should help make the
concepts relevant to readers’ lives; this, in turn, should improve retention
of the course material.
We would like to thank the many instructors and students who have
helped us craft this model and apply it to our discipline, and we look
forward to your feedback. Please feel free to contact us and share your
experiences with the third Canadian edition of An Introduction to
Psychological Science.
Mark Krause: krausema@sou.edu
Daniel Corts: danielcorts@augustana.edu
Stephen Smith: s.smith@uwinnipeg.ca

Content Highlights
Writing the first Canadian edition of An Introduction to Psychological
Science gave us a new appreciation for how important Canadian
researchers have been to the study of psychological science. Although
Canada is a relatively small country (in population and the number of
research institutions), Canadian researchers have made incredibly

important contributions to a number of areas of psychology. These
important contributions are again highlighted in the third Canadian
edition. We have also continued to focus on issues that are of particular
relevance to Canadians, including bilingualism, environmental
psychology, and the experiences of first- and second-generation

immigrants to Canada.
As introductory psychology professors ourselves, we had a chance to use
the first and second editions of our textbook in our own classes. The third
edition of our textbook provides us with an opportunity to (1) add new,

cutting-edge material to the discussion of various areas of our field, and
(2) expand on topics that our own students have found particularly
interesting. In fact, several of the changes to this edition of the book are a
result of feedback and discussions with students in Winnipeg (as well as a
few much-appreciated emails from students at other institutions).
The majority of university students are digital natives, meaning they have
never lived in a world without mobile phones, the internet, and social
media. These technological advances have brought about psychological
changes. We study, work, relax, and socialize differently because many of
these activities now take place over Instagram, Twitter, and other apps. In
order to get readers thinking critically about psychology in our electronic
lives, we have added the new #Psych feature. This feature addresses
topics such as how to deal with misinformation on the internet, the

impact of screen time on sleep, and how social networks may not be a
good substitute for old-fashioned, face-to-face contact. Importantly, this
section is not entirely negative! This feature also highlights potential
benefits of the wired world, such as providing internet-based therapy for
people who live in remote locations.
Each chapter of the third edition of this textbook has been updated to
reflect the latest discoveries in psychology. Indeed, we have added new
topics to all 16 chapters in the book. Here are some examples:
• Chapter 1, Introducing Psychological Science, describes the foundations
of psychology, which are unlikely to change: the nature of science,
scientific literacy, and especially critical thinking. However, the world
around us is definitely changing. To keep up with the times, Chapter 1
introduces the new feature, #Psych. This feature will appear in each
chapter as a way of illustrating how psychology is found in the digital
world while focusing on the content from that chapter. The first #Psych
shows the importance of our foundational concepts when we encounter
information online. How can we tell science from pseudoscience, where

do we go to find accurate information, and how can we tell reliable news
from propaganda?
• Chapter 2, Reading and Evaluating Scientific Research, features updated

examples illustrating topics such as the “replication crisis” and
falsifiability.
• Chapter 3, Biological Psychology, includes a more streamlined

discussion of evolution and the brain. We have also added new
information about neuroplasticity and video games, a topic that will likely
interest a number of readers.

• Chapter 4, Sensation and Perception, now includes a #Psych feature
focusing on autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR), a recently
identified example of atypical multimodal integration, and up-to-date

citations on brain imaging of this phenomenon. We have also included
scientific research on how magicians utilize principles of sensation and

perception in their craft. A new application activity on noise exposure and
hearing loss was added to the module on hearing.
• Chapter 5, Consciousness, includes a #Psych feature about the effects of
the blue light from smart phones on our circadian rhythms. We have also
performed extensive revisions of the Drugs and Conscious Experience
module in order to account for the fact that marijuana is now legal in
Canada. These updates include new information about the effects of
marijuana on the brain as well as a discussion of how legalization affected

drug use in other countries.
• Chapter 6, Learning, includes updated research on the topic of violent
video game play and aggression. This is an unresolved question, with

much research and meta-analyses showing weak or nonexistent effects of
violent game play and actual aggressive behaviour or desensitization to
others. We added citations and discussion to reflect the current

controversies in this area. We reworked the section on superstitious
behaviour as applied to operant conditioning. The major study cited has a

published replication failure so we have cited different work that, while
less “splashy” in terms of findings, will more faithfully represent research

in this area.
• Chapter 7, Memory, includes new information about emotion and
memory. We have also revamped our explanations of several concepts

and have provided clearer examples of the differences in overlapping
concepts (e.g., short-term memory and working memory).
• Chapter 8, Thought and Language, includes increased and refined
coverage of culture and cognition along with updates on categorization.
The section on humour (introduced in the second edition) was well

received, so we included additional content there as well.
• Chapter 9, Intelligence Testing, includes updated and reorganized

material on heritability and the concept of g. We have shifted away from
other topics that have recently received significant criticism from the
scientific community and provided a more critical review of the concept
of multiple intelligences.
• Chapter 10, Lifespan Development, underwent extensive revision to

streamline content and update citations. The #Psych section focuses on
the highly relevant topic of digital screen-time exposure for children. Two
studies were dropped because of replication failure. The marshmallow

test, popular as it is to teach and discuss, has been challenging to
replicate and findings may not be nearly as robust as presumed. We will
follow the work in this area and integrate it back into the book if
additional experiments warrant it. Also, Meltzoff and Moore’s classic

study of facial imitation in newborns was dropped because of failures to
replicate the original work. Despite these changes, we still cover the
topics of impulse control, social learning, and imitation from a
developmental perspective.
• Chapter 11, Motivation and Emotion, includes major revisions to our

discussions of the cognitive factors underlying our motivation to eat. In
the Sex module, we have added a discussion of the evolutionary factors
influencing our desire to have sex and have also added a new Working
the Scientific Literacy Model section that discusses biological
explanations of sexual orientation. We have also included a #Psych
section about internet pornography and have updated our discussion of
the ongoing controversy surrounding Ontario’s “sex ed” curriculum.

• Chapter 12, Personality, includes a section featuring industrial and
organizational psychology and how personality testing is relevant to
employee selection and placement. The #Psych section covers the topic of
internet trolling and what personality psychologists can tell us about
internet trolls. A new applied activity invites students to examine their
own trolling tendencies.
• Chapter 13, Social Psychology, has shifted more toward modern

examples and away from classic studies that received some criticism; for
example, describing how social pressures may be applied to problem
drinking and sexual assaults. We noticed that covering obedience and the
bystander effect seemed a little disheartening. To counter that, we added

some material emphasizing positive behaviours such as altruism.
• Chapter 14, Health, Stress, and Coping, now features research on

relationships between intestinal microbiota and mental health. The
#Psych feature tackles the topic of how social media use and exposure
relate to mental health. A new application exercise asks students to
consider their own attitudes about obesity.
• Chapter 15, Psychological Disorders, underwent the largest revisions in

the book. Module 15.1, which focuses on the benefits and challenges of
diagnosing psychological disorders, was completely rewritten. It now
includes information about why it is important to classify disorders while
also noting several factors that make this task quite difficult. We have also
added a section about the importance of correctly diagnosing attention-
deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Module 15.2 also underwent very
large revisions. We added new sections on Cluster A and Cluster C
personality disorders as well as a new Working the Scientific Literacy
Module on criminal psychopaths. Several sections of Modules 15.3—

which focuses on anxiety, Obsessive-Compulsive, and mood disorders—
and Module 15.4—which focuses on schizophrenia—were also updated
and reorganized to improve clarity. Notable among these changes are a
clearer explanation of the neuroscience of depression and a #Psych
feature on the effect of social media on depression.
• Chapter 16, Therapies, includes new information about the use of

MDMA (Ecstasy) for the treatment of posttraumatic stress disorder
(PTSD). We have also performed extensive revisions to the sections on
barriers that prevent people from seeking help for psychological
disorders; these changes include a discussion about how Canada’s rural
population does not have adequate access to mental health professionals.

On a related note, we have also added a #Psych feature discussing the
feasibility of internet-based cognitive therapy. We have also updated
sections related to the mechanisms of antidepressants and the use of deep
brain stimulation for the treatment of psychological disorders.
• Instructors consistently tell us that assessing student progress is a

critical component to their course and one of the most time-consuming
tasks. Vetted, good-quality, easy-to-use assessment tools are essential.
We have been listening and we have responded by creating

comprehensive and carefully checked end-of-module and end-of-chapter
quizzes as well as homework questions for each chapter in our Revel
course. These quizzes contain multiple-choice questions that enable
students to assess their comprehension and better prepare for exams.

Tied to the learning objectives, these quizzes assess understanding at the
four levels of Bloom’s taxonomy.
• Upon popular request, we have reinstated the Answer Key at the end of
the text. This key provides the answers to the Apply Activity questions
presented in the module summaries.
• A new Experiment Simulations appendix in Revel allows students to
participate in online simulations of virtual, classic psychology

experiments and research-based inventories, helping to reinforce what
they are learning in class and in their book with additional quiz
questions.
We believe that these changes (among the many others made to the
book) have allowed us to achieve our goal for the third Canadian edition:
to provide readers with a thorough description of the field of psychology

while also highlighting the importance of scientific literacy and the
biopsychosocial model of human behaviour. We hope that you, the
reader, feel the same. Enjoy the book!
About the Authors
Dr. Mark Krause received his Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees at Central
Washington University, and his Ph.D. at the University of Tennessee. He
completed a postdoctoral appointment at the University of Texas at
Austin, where he studied classical conditioning of sexual behaviour in

birds. Following this, Krause accepted a research fellowship through the
National Institute of Aging to conduct research on cognitive neuroscience
at Oregon Health and Sciences University. He has conducted research
and published on pointing and communication in chimpanzees,
predatory behaviour in snakes, the behavioural and evolutionary basis of

conditioned sexual behaviour, and the influence of testosterone on
cognition and brain function. Krause is currently a professor of
psychology at Southern Oregon University, where his focus is on
teaching, writing, and supervising student research. His teaching includes
courses in general psychology, comparative psychology, learning and

memory, and behavioural neuroscience. His spare time is spent with his
family, cycling, reading, and enjoying Oregon’s outdoors.
Dr. Daniel Corts discovered psychology at Belmont University, where he
received his Bachelor’s degree. He completed a Ph.D. in experimental
psychology at the University of Tennessee in 1999 and then a
postdoctoral position at Furman University for one year where he focused
on the teaching of psychology. He is now a professor of psychology at
Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois, where he has taught for over
19 years. His research interests in cognition have led to publications on
language and memory, and he has also published in the area of college
student development. Corts is also involved in applied work, designing
and conducting evaluations for grants funding public education
initiatives. Corts is enthusiastic about getting students involved in

research and has supervised or coauthored over 100 conference
presentations with undergraduates. Corts is active in Psi Chi, the
International Honor Society in Psychology, and recently finished a term
as president. In his spare time, he enjoys spending time with his two
children, travelling, camping, and cooking.
Dr. Stephen Smith received his Bachelor’s degree in psychology and
political science from the University of Lethbridge, and his Master’s
degree and Ph.D. in psychology from the University of Waterloo. After
graduating in 2004, he completed a postdoctoral fellowship in the

Affective Neuroscience Laboratory at Vanderbilt University in Nashville,
Tennessee. Smith is now a professor of psychology at the University of
Winnipeg. His research focuses on how emotion, attention, and
movement interact, and on how these processes are performed by the
nervous system. He has published research on emotional processing in
patients with different types of brain damage, the phenomenon of the
autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR), and, using
neuroimaging, how emotions influence the activity of cells in both the
brain and the spinal cord. Smith’s teaching includes introductory

psychology, physiological psychology, and third- and fourth-year courses
in cognitive neuroscience. In his spare time, he loves to travel, read, play

hockey, coach soccer, and spend time with his wife and two young
children.
Acknowledgments
We cannot fathom completing a project like this without the help and
support of many individuals. Through every bit of this process have been
our families and we thank you for your love, patience, and support. In
addition, our departments have been wonderfully understanding and

helpful, offering advice with their various specializations, providing
examples and tips, reviewing drafts, and tolerating our occasional
absences (and grumpy moods).
The third edition of this book was definitely a team effort. Our Content
Developer, Dea Barbieri, showed superhuman patience (and an

exceptional knowledge of hockey). Ruth Chernia provided amazing copy
editing and helped turn our mad scribblings into a coherent book. We are
also indebted to Kim Veevers (Executive Portfolio Manager) and to
everyone on the production and permissions side of things: Söğüt Güleç,
Andrea Falkenberg, Jaime Smith, and Meaghan Lloyd at Pearson Canada,

Jennifer Stevenson at Ohlinger Studios, Pradeep Subramani and
Shubham Verma at Integra Software Services Pvt. Ltd. We would also like
to thank the entire Pearson sales team for promoting this book as well as
the supplements team for preparing other online materials.
The third Canadian edition of this book benefited from conversations

with a number of colleagues. Doug Williams, Amy Desroches, and Justin
Friesen from the University of Winnipeg provided us with interesting

insights into different aspects of psychology that ended up influencing
several chapters. Mike Dixon from the University of Waterloo (and
Steve’s former basketball teammate) provided useful information about

gambling (Module 6.2). Steve’s clinical psychology graduate student,
Tracie Parkinson (University of Manitoba), provided a great deal of

information that found its way into Chapters 15 (Psychological Disorders)
and 16 (Therapies). Finally, we would like to thank the many reviewers

and students who carefully read over the first two Canadian editions of
this book. We are very grateful that you shared your expertise in the field
of psychology, and in teaching, to help bring this book to life.
We value feedback from both instructors and students, and we are sure
that we will need it for our fourth Canadian edition. Please do not
hesitate to offer suggestions or comments by writing to Mark Krause

(krausema@sou.edu), Dan Corts (danielcorts@augustana.edu), or Steve
Smith (s.smith@uwinnipeg.ca).
Dedications
For Andrea, Finn, and Skyler. You fuel my passion and motivation for this
endeavor. I cannot thank you enough. —Mark Krause
To Kim, Sophie, and Jonah, for your patience, understanding, and forgiveness
during all the hours this project has occupied me. —Daniel Corts
To my brilliant wife, Jenn, and our hilarious children, Oliver and Clara. Thank
you for putting up with me. —Stephen Smith
The Story of Revel—Why Revel?
WATCH Why Revel?
 Listen to the Audio
Revel is an interactive learning environment designed for the way today’s
students read, think, and learn. Revel uses interactives and assessments
integrated within the narrative that enhance content as well as students’
overall learning experiences.
The story of Revel is simple: When students are engaged in the course
content, they learn more effectively and perform better.
When creating your course, you have many choices as to how to
supplement your lectures and curriculum. So ask yourself these
questions: How do I know if my students are reading their assigned

materials? Do I want my students to have a better understanding of the
concepts presented in this class through course materials and lectures?
Do I want to see my students perform better throughout the course? If
you answered “yes” to these questions, choose Revel.
Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock

Narrative Tells the Story
With Revel, students are introduced to a new learning experience, one in

which the most up-to-date content, reading, and interactive learning
become one.
We’ve talked to hundreds of instructors about their biggest challenges in

teaching their courses. We’ve heard some consistent answers: students
are not engaged; students come to class unprepared; students are unable
to think critically. However, the most common answer is that students do
not read, which leads directly to, and in fact magnifies, the other
challenges that instructors identified—lack of student engagement, lack of
student preparedness, and an inability to think critically. Our goal in

developing Revel was to research why students aren’t reading and to
solve that problem first and foremost as a gateway to deeper learning.

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Research and Data
Research shows that for students, reducing the extraneous cognitive load
– that is, the mental effort being used in the working memory – is key to
learning and retention. When students read or study in order to process
and retain information, the information must move from the working
memory to the long-term memory. Put simply, reducing extraneous

cognitive load increases long-term memory.
Our research also tells us that students do not see the benefits of reading
their textbooks. Students perceive their instructor’s dynamic lectures and
class notes as their main source for learning and view their assigned text
as simply a repetition of that classroom experience. In a student’s mind,

why would they read? What are the benefits?
We share the same goals: to give your students the motivation to read by
adding value to their interaction with the course materials, and to make it
easier for you to assign reading.
If that’s important to you, choose Revel.

The Story of Revel—The Solution
WATCH The Revel Solution
Revel is learning reimagined.
Revel benefits your students. Revel’s dynamic content matches the way
students learn today. Narrative is supported and enhanced by interactive

content and as a result, reading becomes a pleasure rather than a chore.
Revel also enables students to read and interact with course material on
the devices they use, anywhere and any time. Responsive design allows
students to access Revel on their tablets, desktop computers, or mobile
devices with content displayed clearly in both portrait and landscape
view.
Revel benefits you. Revel allows you to check your students’ progress
and understanding of core concepts through regular and consistent
assessment. End-of-module and end-of-chapter quizzes in Revel allow
students opportunities to check their understanding at regular intervals
before moving on; their grades are reported to the instructor dashboard.
Revel also offers no-, low-, and high-stakes writing activities for students
through the journal, shared writing, and essay activities.
Revel lets you monitor class assignment completion as well as individual

student achievement. Do you want to see points earned on quizzes, time
on task, and whether a particular student’s grade is improving? If so,
choose Revel.
Pearson Education
Reading
Our extensive research with both students and instructors found that
students who spend time completing their Revel reading assignments
come to class better prepared to ask questions and participate in
discussions. Revel’s assignability and tracking tools help educators make
sure students are completing their reading and understanding core

concepts. Instructors using Revel can see how frequently students access
their reading assignments and how well they understand what they read
before they come to class.
Assessments allow instructors to gauge student comprehension
frequently, provide timely feedback, and address learning gaps along the
way. Stakes associated with assessment instruments can positively impact
motivation, which can improve student participation and performance.

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Learning Design Theory
Over the course of several years, we have worked with thousands of

educators, students, and instructional design experts to develop Revel
with our authors. All of Revel’s key aspects—from features to content to
performance dashboard reporting—were guided by interactions with our
customers. Each Revel prototype has been tested with educators and
students to make sure it facilitates the achievement of their course and
individual goals. The result is a new approach to digital learning that
gives educators and students precisely what they need to enhance
learning and engagement.
INTERACTIVES AND VIDEOS Integrated interactive elements and

brief videos allow students to engage with content and take an active role
in learning. Revel’s interactive learning tools have been designed to be
completed quickly so students stay focused and on task.
INTERACTIVITY SPACED ACROSS CONTENT Instructional design
research shows that active pauses—with interactive content interspersed
within the text narrative—improves learning. Interactive content can often
more clearly provide information that is difficult to convey in static text.

Revel integrates active pauses to let learners stop and process information
using encoding and retrieval processes in the brain (Cheon, Crooks,
Chung, Song & Kim, 2014).

FAMILIAR LEARNING AND STUDY TOOLS Highlighting, note
taking, and a glossary personalize the learning experience. Instructors can
add notes for students, too, including reminders or study tips.

Data and Product Development
Instructional design research shows that taking a test on presented

material promotes subsequent learning and retention of that material on
a final test. When assessments are implemented appropriately and with
specific, timely feedback, students are engaged in the retrieval process,
and this act of retrieving solidifies the original learning. (McDaniel,

Anderson, Derbish, & Morrisette, 2007; Wiliam 2007).
The Story of Revel—Your Students
WATCH Revel and Your Students
Today’s students are busy. Many are not only taking a full class load, but
are also working full-time, holding internships, raising families, and
commuting to and from campus. As an instructor, you are competing for
the limited time that students have outside of class. In addition, you are
competing with other courses in which students juggle heavy workloads.
With Revel, students can be efficient with their time. Revel ensures that
your course will become a priority, and it will motivate students to
complete their reading prior to coming to class. You work hard to give
your students a 21st century experience in class, one that incorporates
multimedia and technology. With Revel, your students can have that
same experience out of class on their own so that they can be better
prepared, and ultimately, more successful, in your class.
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What Students Need
Students need to be motivated to read. Students also need the work they
do outside of class to be a valuable use of their limited time. They need to
believe that they are spending their time wisely. The interactive elements
of Revel ensure that students are getting more than just a digital textbook
experience; with Revel, they are “experiencing” the content in new and
dynamic ways. Coupled with periodic assessment tools – as well as
opportunities to write about what they have read and learned – Revel
enhances student learning and retention.

Jacob Lund/Fotolia
Mobile App
The new Revel mobile app lets students read, practice, and study—
anywhere, anytime, on any device. Content is available both online and
offline, and the app automatically syncs work across all registered
devices, giving students greater flexibility to toggle between their phone,
tablet, and laptop as they move through their day. The app also lets
students customize assignment notifications to stay on top of all due
dates.
In spring 2016 and 2017, over 1,600 students at nearly 80 two and four-
year colleges and universities responded to a demonstration of Revel.
Here is a sample of some student responses:
"Easy to access, no waiting for the textbook to arrive. I can review for
tests and it will remind me of upcoming assignments." - Danielle,
Normandale Community College
"Simple interface, easy to navigate and very convenient." - Degerio,
Guilford Technical Community College
"The future of learning." - Enrique, Des Moines Area Community College
Available for download from the Apple iTunes App Store or Google Play.
Pearson Education
Accessibility
Learning doesn’t stop when students walk out of class or step off campus;
we designed the mobile app because learning happens where life
happens — everywhere.
The Revel app lets students customize assignment notifications to stay on

top of all due dates. With the Revel app, students can:
access the assignment calendar;
complete reading and quizzes;
set customized due date reminders;
check overall performance on their mobile device.

Pearson Education
Support and Implementation—
Getting Started with Revel
More than 5,000 Revel instructors are connecting and sharing ideas.
They’re energizing their classrooms and brainstorming teaching
challenges via Pearson’s growing network of faculty communities. The
Revel community is an open, online space where members come together
to collaborate and learn from each other. If you’re currently teaching with
Revel or considering Revel for use in your class, we invite you to join the
Revel community.
Getting started with Revel is easy:
Identify the Problems You Want to Solve
Do you want students to come to class more prepared, having read
their assigned reading? Are your goals focused on improving student
success in your course? Are you looking to increase student
engagement? Are you interested in flipping your classroom so that
students learn basic course content outside of class, allowing for more
active and applied in-class learning?
Keep It Simple
The process of accessing and navigating these learning solutions

needs to be simple and intuitive. Revel has built-in, frequent, low-
stakes assessments for students to easily assess their understanding of
the material, without getting sidetracked from their required reading
assignment.
Track Learning Gains
Educators who track and measure learning gains are able to make
informed decisions about product implementations, course
transformations, and redesigns. In addition, they can increase their
ability to prove institutional effectiveness, meet accreditation
standards, track quality-enhancement plans, and fulfill grant
requirements.
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Course Creation, Set-Up, and
Assignments
If you have used a Pearson digital product in the past like a MyLab, you
can use your same Pearson account info to sign in to Revel.
If you do not have a Pearson account already, click Educator in the Get
Started box, and click I would like to request access.
After sign in, you will arrive at Revel’s course homepage. Select Search
for Materials in the upper right-hand corner and enter the title, author,
ISBN or keyword of the text you’ll be using. When you find your text,
click Create Course. Fill in your course information, and click Save.
Rostislav Sedlacek/Fotolia
The first time you log in to Revel as an instructor you will be prompted to
“start creating assignments.” Click Get Started.
You are now ready to:
select content to choose textbook content, interactive media, and

graded assignments;
set due dates to make sure students know what Revel reading and
assessments are due and when;
publish assignments to push content and assignments to students.

BUILDING AN ASSESSMENT PLAN Revel includes various quiz types
to use for both formative and summative assessments. To get started,
simply assign each Revel module that you intend to cover in your course.
Be sure to consider your assignment due dates. If your goal is for students
to come to class more prepared, then be sure to make assignments due

before those topics are covered in class.
Additionally, think about how you will measure success in this Revel
course. What are the quantifiable goals you want to achieve? Pertinent
metrics might include one or both of the following:
an analysis of student engagement using Revel’s built-in reporting

features or
a comparison of in-class exam scores, final course grades, or retention

rates with those of previous semesters.
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Dashboard and Analytics
Because students tend to skip optional assignments, it is critical that Revel

contributes to the overall course grade. The recommendation of
experienced educators is that Revel should represent at least 10-20% of
the total course grade.
Remember that when you assign a chapter or section in Revel, you are
assigning reading, interactives, videos, and assessments. All you need to
do is pick the chapters and topics you want to cover, and then assign
them to your students on the Revel assignment calendar. The
Performance Dashboard allows you to export the student grades and
provides total points earned for easy manual adjustments to external

gradebooks.
Instructional design research suggests that certain habits of mind and
dispositions are associated with critical thinking skills. Writing can be
used as a tool to foster critical thinking. To get students to move toward
adopting these habits and dispositions, instruction and assessment should
be appropriately complex, and focused on supporting, eliciting, and
assessing skills such as evaluation, analysis, synthesis, collaboration, and

critical reflection. (Cope, Kalantzis, McCarthey, Vojak & Kline, 2011; Liu,
Frankel, & Roohr, 2014).
As a reminder, all Revel product information can be found on the
Pearson Revel site.

www.pearson.com/revel
Pearson Education
LMS Integration
Pearson provides Blackboard Learn™, Canvas™, Brightspace by D2L,

and Moodle integration, giving institutions, instructors, and students easy
access to Revel. Our Revel integration delivers streamlined access to
everything your students need for the course in these learning
management system (LMS) environments.
SINGLE SIGN-ON With a single sign-on, students are ready on their
first day. From your LMS course, students have easy access to an
interactive blend of author’s narrative, media, and assessment.

GRADE SYNC Flexible, on-demand grade synchronization capabilities

allow you to control exactly which Revel grades should be transferred to
the LMS gradebook.
BEFORE YOU GET STARTED

Visit www.pearsonhighered.com/revel/educators/lms-integration-
services/ for administration and training guides related to your LMS.

Summary
With Revel, Pearson authors have been able to reimagine the way
students learn content, applying new and engaging learning and

assessment strategies that were not possible in the past with a print
textbook. If you want your students to read, retain what they have read,
understand concepts more fully, and develop and apply critical thinking
skills, you have one choice.
Choose Revel.
Pearson Education
REFERENCES
Cheon, J., Chung, S., Crooks, S. M., Song, J., & Kim, J. (2014). An investigation of the effects
of different types of activities during pauses in a segmented instructional animation.
Journal of Educational Technology & Society, 17(2), 296–306.
Cope, B., Kalantzis, M., McCarthey, S., Vojak, C., & Kline, S. (2011). Technology-mediated
writing assessments: Principles and processes. Computers and Composition, 28(2), 79–96.
DOI: 10.1016/j.compcom.2011.04.007
Liu, O. L., Frankel, L., & Roohr, K. C. (2014). Assessing critical thinking in higher education:
Current state and directions for next-generation assessment. ETS Research Reports
Series, 2014: 1–23. DOI: 10.1002/ets2.12009
McDaniel, M. A., Anderson, J, L., Derbish, M. H., & Morrisette, N. (2007). Testing the testing
effect in the classroom. European Journal of Cognitive Psychology, 19:4, 494–513.
Wiliam, D. (2007). Keeping learning on track: classroom assessment and the regulation of
learning. In F. K. Lester Jr (Ed.), Second handbook of mathematics teaching and learning (pp.
1053-1098). Greenwich, CT: Information Age Publishing.

Chapter 1
Introducing Psychological Science
1.1 The Science of Psychology
The Scientific Method
Building Scientific Literacy
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Planning When to Study
Module 1.1 Summary
1.2 How Psychology Became a Science
Psychology’s Philosophical and Scientific Origins
The Beginnings of Contemporary Psychology
Emerging Themes in Psychology
Module 1.2 Summary

Module 1.1 The Science of
Psychology
Everett Collection
 Learning Objectives
1.1a Know . . . the key terminology of the scientific method.

1.1b Understand . . . the steps of the scientific method.
1.1c Understand . . . the concept of scientific literacy.
1.1d Apply . . . the biopsychosocial model to behaviour.
1.1e Apply . . . the steps in critical thinking.
1.1f Analyze . . . the use of the term scientific theory.
Almost everyone has misinterpreted someone else’s meaning in a
conversation. You could misinterpret someone leaning closer to you as
flirting when really you were just talking too softly. You could mistake
someone’s tone of voice as being annoyed when that person was
actually talking loudly to be heard over other people in the room. We
also frequently misjudge other people’s attitudes and personalities. The
unfriendly and arrogant person at work might actually turn out to be a

shy person who dislikes crowded social events. In all of these situations,
we make inferences about another person based on the different cues
they provide us. But how do we decide which cues are important? Are
they really the right cues to be using when we want to explain other
people’s behaviour?
The situation is even more complicated in the wired world of the 21st
century, with everyone plugged in to email, online gaming, and social

networking sites like Facebook and Twitter. How do you interpret
someone’s behaviour or intentions when all you have to go by is words

on a screen and cartoon-like happy faces? How much information do
you need to (safely) disclose in order for other people to understand

you? These questions highlight the complexity of human behaviour as
well as some of the challenges involved in trying to understand it. In
this text, we will examine many different aspects of behaviour—from

basic brain and perception functions to memory to social behaviours.
But all of these chapters have the same central theme: the scientific
quest to understand why and how we behave the way we do.
One of the reasons psychology is such an exciting class is that it is easy to

see how this field of study relates to your own life. Although chemistry
and physics both have a profound effect on our lives, it is sometimes

difficult to link formulas and diagrams with real-life experiences.
Psychology is visceral—we feel emotions, we take in sensations, and we

produce behaviours such as thoughts and actions. Psychology is you.
A more official definition of psychology  is the scientific study of
behaviour, thought, and experience, and how they can be affected by physical,
mental, social, and environmental factors. This definition shows you that
psychology involves a number of overlapping areas of investigation.

Some of the overarching goals of psychology include:
to understand how different brain structures work together to

produce our behaviour
to understand how nature (genetics) and nurture (our upbringing and

environment) interact to make us who we are
to understand how previous experiences influence how we think and

act
to understand how groups—family, culture, and crowds—affect the

individual
to understand how feelings of control can influence happiness and

health
to understand how each of these factors can influence our well-being
and could contribute to psychological disorders
Critically, these points are not independent of one another. As we will

discuss later in this module, every topic in psychology is examined from
multiple perspectives, such as biological, sociocultural, or cognitive

(thinking). As you progress through this text, you will begin to
understand the different factors that influence your thoughts, actions, and
feelings. Psychology can help you see the world in a different way. And,
just as important, psychology can help you understand why other
people behave the way they do. All of the factors that influence you also
influence other people in one way or another. By understanding these

influences, you can gain a better understanding—and acceptance—of the
people around you.
Importantly, our knowledge of human behaviour is not just a series of

opinions. Every topic that we will discuss is based on the hard work of
scientists who meticulously tested their ideas in laboratories and in the
“real world.” This text includes many references to their findings as
reported in scientific journals (e.g., Eastwood et al., 2016) so you may go
straight to the source of the information any time you want to find out
more. The science of psychology would be nothing without the scientific
method.
The Scientific Method
What exactly does it mean to be a scientist? A person who haphazardly

combines chemicals in test tubes may look like a chemist, but he is not
conducting science; a person who dissects a specimen just to see how it
looks may appear to be a biologist, but this is not science either. In
contrast, a person who carefully follows a system of observing, predicting,

and testing is conducting science, whether the subject matter is
chemicals, physiology, human memory, or social interactions. In other
words, whether a field of study is a science, or a specific type of research
is scientific, is based not on the subject but on the use of the scientific
method. The scientific method  is a way of learning about the world
through collecting observations, developing theories to explain them, and using

the theories to make predictions. It involves a dynamic interaction between
hypothesis testing and the construction of theories, outlined in Figure
1.1 .
Figure 1.1 The Scientific Method

Scientists use theories to generate hypotheses. Once tested, hypotheses
are either confirmed or rejected. Confirmed hypotheses lead to new ones
and strengthen theories. Rejected hypotheses are revised and tested
again, and can potentially alter an existing theory.
Hypotheses: Making Predictions
Scientific thinking and procedures revolve around the concepts of a
hypothesis and a theory. Both guide the process and progress of the
sciences; however, it is important to differentiate between these terms. A
hypothesis  (plural: hypotheses) is a testable prediction about processes
that can be observed and measured. A hypothesis can be supported or

rejected—you cannot prove a hypothesis because it is always possible that
a future experiment could show that it is wrong or limited in some way.
This support or rejection occurs after scientists have tested the
hypothesis. For a hypothesis to be testable, it must be falsifiable ,
meaning that the hypothesis is precise enough that it could be proven false.
This precision is also important because it will help future researchers if
they try to replicate the study (i.e., reproduce the findings) to determine if
it the results were due to chance (see Module 2.1  for a more in-depth
discussion of replication).
“All swans are white” is a falsifiable statement. A swan that is not
coloured white will falsify it. Falsification is a critical component of
scientific hypotheses and theories.
Ellie Rothnie/Alamy Stock Photo
These requirements are regularly broken by people claiming to be

scientific. For example, astrologers and psychics are in the business of
making predictions. An astrologer might tell you, “It’s a good time for you
to keep quiet or defer important calls or emails.” This type of statement is
impossible to test. If you keep quiet and nothing happens to you, is that
due to you following the horoscope or to the fact that you hid from the
world? Horoscopes make very general predictions—typically so much so

that you could easily find evidence for them if you looked hard enough,
and perhaps stretched an interpretation of events a bit. In contrast, a

good scientific hypothesis is stated in more precise terms that promote
testability, such as the following:
People become less likely to help a stranger if there are others around.
Alcohol reduces the quality of sleep.
Exercise improves memory.
Each of these hypotheses can be confirmed or rejected through scientific
testing. An obvious difference between science and astrology is that

scientists are eager to test hypotheses such as these, whereas astrologers
would rather you just take their word for it. We acknowledge that
astrology is an easy target for criticism. In fact, it is often referred to as
pseudoscience , an idea that is presented as science but does not actually

utilize basic principles of scientific thinking or procedure. Incidentally, a 2015
poll found that 35% of Canadians believe that the position of the stars in
the sky can affect a person’s behaviour (Angus Reid Institute, 2015).
Theories: Explaining Phenomena
In contrast to hypotheses, a theory  is an explanation for a broad range of
observations that also generates new hypotheses and integrates numerous
findings into a coherent whole. In other words, theories are general
principles or explanations of some aspect of the world (including human
behaviours), whereas hypotheses are specific predictions that can test the
theory or, more realistically, specific parts of that theory. Theories are
built from hypotheses that are repeatedly tested and confirmed. Similar to
hypotheses, an essential quality of scientific theories is that they can be
supported or proved false with new evidence. If a hypothesis is
supported, it provides more support for the theory. In turn, good theories
eventually become accepted explanations of behaviour or other
phenomena (i.e., they can be used to generate new hypotheses).
However, if the hypothesis is not supported by the results of a well-
designed experiment, then researchers may have to rethink elements of
the theory. Figure 1.1  shows how hypothesis testing eventually leads
back to the theory from which it was based, and how theories can be
updated with new evidence. This process helps to ensure that science is
self-correcting—bad ideas typically do not last long in the sciences.
The term theory is often used very casually, which has led to some
persistent and erroneous beliefs about scientific theories. The following
points clarify some common misperceptions.

Theories are not the same as opinions or beliefs. Yes, it is certainly
true that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. But the phrase
“That’s just your theory” is confusing the terms opinion and theory. A
theory can help scientists develop testable hypotheses; opinions do
not need to be testable, or even logical.
All theories are not equally plausible. Groups of scientists might
adopt different theories for explaining the same phenomenon. For
example, several theories have been proposed to explain why people
become depressed. This does not mean that anyone can throw their
hat into the ring and claim equal status for his or her theory (or
belief). A good theory can explain previous research and can lead to
even more testable hypotheses.
The quality of a theory is not related to the number of people who
believe it to be true. The National Center for Science Education
reports that, according to a 2018 poll, only 68% of Canadians believe
in the theory of evolution by natural selection (Branch, 2018), despite
the fact that it is the most plausible, rigorously tested theory of
biological change and diversity.
Testing hypotheses and constructing theories are both part of all sciences.
Importantly, each science, including psychology, has its own unique way
of approaching its complex subject matter as well as its own unique set of
challenges. In the case of psychology, we must remember that behaviour

can occur on a number of different levels, including the activity of cells in
different parts of the brain, thought processes such as language and

memory, and sociocultural processes that shape daily life for millions of
people. Therefore, psychology examines the individual as a product of

multiple influences, including biological, psychological, and social factors.
The Biopsychosocial Model
Because our thoughts and behaviours have multiple influences,
psychologists adopt multiple perspectives to understand them. The
biopsychosocial model  is a means of explaining behaviour as a product of
biological, psychological, and sociocultural factors (see Figure 1.2 ).
Biological influences on our behaviour involve brain structures and

chemicals, hormones, and external substances such as drugs.
Psychological influences involve our memories, emotions, and
personalities, and how these factors shape the way we think about and
respond to different people and situations. Finally, social factors such as
our family, peers, ethnicity, and culture can have a huge effect on our
behaviour. One of the most challenging aspects of psychology is that all
of these factors affect your behaviour simultaneously, and can even affect
each other. Take an everyday activity like having a meal: your hormones
signal that your body needs energy, thinking about the pizza shop down
the street can make your mouth water, and a friend may text you asking
you to join them for a bite. These are only a fraction of the
biopsychosocial causes of eating. Teasing apart the multiple influences of
behaviour makes psychology a complex, yet fascinating, discipline.
Figure 1.2 The Biopsychosocial Model

Psychologists view behaviour from multiple perspectives. A full
understanding of human behaviour comes from analyzing biological,
psychological, and sociocultural factors.
Review The Biopsychosocial Model

The take-home message of this section is that almost every moment of
your life is occurring at all three levels; psychologists have taken up the
exciting challenge of trying to understand them. Indeed, behaviour can be

fully explained only if multiple perspectives—and their interactions—are
investigated. This “systems perspective” will become particularly apparent

as you read about psychological research that tackles complex topics.
Building Scientific Literacy
A major aim of this text is to teach you the theoretical foundations,

concepts, and applicable skills that are central to the field of psychology.
This book is also designed to help you develop scientific literacy , the
ability to understand, analyze, and apply scientific information. As you can
see in Figure 1.3 , scientific literacy has several key components, starting
with the ability to learn new information. Certainly this text will provide
you with new terminology and concepts, but you will continue to
encounter psychological and scientific terminology long after you have
completed this course. Being scientifically literate means that you will be
able to read and interpret new terminology, or know where to go to find
out more.
Figure 1.3 A Model of Scientific Literacy Does Yoga Relieve Stress?

Memorizing different terms is not enough to make someone scientifically
literate. We also have to examine whether the ideas being presented were
scientifically tested, and whether those studies were designed properly. It
is absolutely essential that we ask such questions. Doing so allows us to

separate the information that we should find convincing from the
information that we should view with caution. It will also allow you to
better analyze the information presented to you by politicians,
corporations, and the media; this will make it more difficult for these
groups to influence your behaviour. Finally, we want to be able to apply
the results of scientific studies to different situations; in other words, to
generalize the results. Generalization shows us that the studies conducted

in universities and hospitals can provide insight into behaviours that
extend far beyond the confines of the lab.

Working the Scientific Literacy Model
Planning When to Study
To develop your scientific literacy skills, in every module
(beginning with Chapter 2 ) we will revisit this model and its

four components as they apply to a specific psychological topic—a
process we call working the scientific literacy model. This will help
you to move beyond simply learning the vocabulary of
psychological research toward understanding scientific

explanations, thinking critically, and discovering applications of
the material. In order to demonstrate how these sections of the
text will work, let’s use an example that will be familiar to many:
planning study time for your classes.
What do we know about timing and studying?

In the first stage of the Scientific Literacy Model, we attempt to
gather the available knowledge about the topic that we’re
investigating, in this case the fact that students differ on how they
attempt to remember information for exams. Many students use
what is called massed learning—they perform all of their studying
for an exam in one lengthy session. Another approach is spaced

or distributed learning—having shorter study sessions, but
spreading them out over several days. Which technique do you
prefer? If you use the massed learning technique (most students
prefer it ... or end up using it because they’ve left studying until

the last minute), it is likely because it seems easier and it may
even give you the sense that it is more effective than distributed
learning. Actually, the two strategies are not equally effective;
more than 100 years of memory research has shown us that
distributed learning is the better of the two (Cepeda et al., 2006;
Edwards, 1917).
How can science explain the effect of timing

on study success?
In the second stage of the Scientific Literacy Model, we examine
whether the information that is available about a topic has been
tested in scientific studies. In a typical study of massed vs.
distributed learning, participants are asked to remember lists of
words or concepts. The stimuli are presented multiple times.
What varies, however, is when these presentations occur. In some
conditions, the stimuli are presented in a single session (a massed

schedule). In other conditions, the studying is spread out across
multiple time periods (a spaced or distributed schedule). As early
as 1885, Herman Ebbinghaus, a German psychologist, found that
his ability to learn sets of nonsense syllables (e.g., wej) was
superior if he spread his learning over three days rather than

trying to learn the lengthy list in one sitting. Similar patterns of
results have been found in hundreds of other studies, providing
strong evidence in favour of distributed learning (Delaney et al.,

2010; Dempster, 1988). Although there is no single explanation
for this effect, one factor is particularly relevant for students.

When information is learned in one massed session, it begins to
feel repetitive. This leads the learners to pay less attention to the
material than they would in distributed learning sessions, when
some of the material may have been forgotten (Ausubel, 1966).

As a result, people learning in a distributed fashion are more
likely to pay attention to the material than massed learners, a
tendency that would obviously improve performance.
Can we critically evaluate this evidence?

In the third stage of the Scientific Literacy Model, we examine the
limitations of the studies discussed earlier; we also look for

alternative explanations for the results. The most obvious
criticism of this research is that results from laboratory-based
studies may not reflect how memory works in a real educational

setting. This is a valid concern—researchers don’t want their
effects to be isolated to the laboratory. Luckily, a number of

researchers have applied the knowledge and techniques
developed by earlier researchers to applied psychology studies in

the classroom. In one study, elementary school children were
taught scientific information about food charts (Gluckman et al.,

2014). Each child received four lessons about this topic. One
group received all four lessons on a Monday (“massed learning

condition”). A second group received two lessons on a Monday
and two lessons on a Tuesday (“clumped learning group”). The
third group received one lesson per day from Monday through
Thursday (“distributed learning group”). All groups were tested
one week after their last lesson. As can be seen in Figure 1.4 ,
the distributed learning group retained much more information
than the other two groups. Similar patterns of results have been
found in studies with middle school children (Sobel et al., 2011)
and undergraduate students at an Ontario university (Kapler et

al., 2015). The consistent findings across many ages and locations
suggests the benefits of distributed learning may apply to many

kinds of students in many learning environments.
Figure 1.4 Massed versus Distributed Learning

In a study by Gluckman and colleagues (2014), groups of students
learned information in one long session (massed learning), two
sessions per day on two consecutive days (clumped learning), or
spread across four days (distributed learning). A test one week
later found that the distributed learning group retained much
more information than the other groups.
Source: Information is derived from Table 1 of Gluckman et al. (2014), Spacing

Simultaneously Promotes Multiple Forms of Learning in Children’s Science Curriculum,
Applied Cognitive Psychology, 28, p. 270, Wiley Online Library.
Why is this finding relevant?

In the final stage of the Scientific Literacy Model, we attempt to
apply the results to situations outside of the laboratory. The

information about distributed learning is being presented in the
first module of this text for a reason: Psychology students should
benefit from psychology research. Now that you know that
retention is improved if you study over the course of a few days

rather than in one long session, you can alter your own study
schedule. The benefits to your grades could be substantial.
Distributed learning has also proven useful in many clinical
contexts, such as helping people improve their memory abilities
after suffering a traumatic brain injury (Hillary et al., 2003).

Sometimes simple experiments can have widespread
implications; that’s something to remember.
Now that you have read this feature, we hope you understand
how scientific information fits into the four components of the
model. But there is still much to learn about working the model.
In the next section, we will describe critical-thinking skills and
how to use them.
Critical Thinking, Curiosity, and a Dose of
Healthy Skepticism
People are confronted with more information on a daily basis than they
have been at any other point in our history. Some of it is credible and can
be used to help guide your decisions or behaviour. But we also must deal
with claims—often made by people trying to sell you things or convince
you that their way of doing things is best. We must keep in mind that
these claims are not always true no matter how sophisticated or common
sense they may sound.
“Fish oil supplements can fight off memory problems in old age. They
contain omega fatty acids that are vital to nerve cell growth and
function.”
“How can they say corporal punishment is bad? I was spanked as a kid
and I turned out fine!”
Whether in the media or in everyday conversation, misinformation
sometimes seems far more abundant than accurate information, which is

why it is important to develop critical thinking skills.
Refer to Figure 1.3 . As the model shows, critical thinking is an
important element of scientific literacy. Critical thinking  involves
exercising curiosity and skepticism when evaluating the claims of others, and
with our own assumptions and beliefs. Critical thinking does not mean being
negative or arbitrarily critical; rather, it means that you intentionally

examine knowledge, beliefs, and the means by which conclusions were
obtained.
Critical thinking involves cautious skepticism. We are constantly being
told about amazing programs that help us control body weight, improve
thinking and memory, enhance sexual performance, and so on. As
consumers, there will always be claims we really hope to be true. But as
critical thinkers, we meet these claims with a good dose of skepticism
(e.g., Is there sound evidence that this psychological weight-management
program helps people to achieve and maintain a healthy body weight?). Being
skeptical can be challenging, especially when it means asking for
evidence that we may not want to find. Often the great products or
miracle cures that we have always hoped for really are “too good to be
true.” Being curious and skeptical leads you to ask important questions
about the science underlying such claims. Doing so leads us to search for
and evaluate evidence, which is never a bad thing.
Importantly, the ability to think critically can be learned and developed,
although most of us need to make a conscious effort to do so (Halpern,

1996). Research points to a core set of habits and skills for developing
critical thinking. We will introduce them here, but you will get a more in-
depth look at each in the modules indicated below:
1. Be curious. Simple answers are sometimes too simple, and
common sense is not always correct (or even close to it). Example:
Giving your brain some time to rest after having a stroke (a form
of brain damage) hinders rather than helps your recovery (see

Module 3.3 ).
2. Examine the nature and source of the evidence; not all research is
of equal quality. Example: Some studies use flawed methods or, in

the case of an infamous study linking vaccines and autism, were
performed by someone who would benefit financially if the
results told a particular story (see Module 2.3 ).
3. Examine assumptions and biases. This includes your own

assumptions as well as the assumptions of those making the
claims. Example: Research examining the impact of human

behaviour on climate change may be biased if it is funded by oil
companies (see Module 2.2 ).

4. Avoid overly emotional thinking. Emotions can tell us what we
value, but they are not always helpful when it comes to making
critical decisions. Example: you may have strong responses when

hearing about differences in the cognitive abilities of males and
females (see Module 3.1 ); however, it is important to put those

aside to examine the studies themselves.
5. Tolerate ambiguity. Most complex issues do not have clear-cut

answers. Example: Psychologists have identified a number of
factors leading to depression, but no single factor guarantees that

a person will suffer from this condition (see Module 15.3 ).
6. Consider alternative viewpoints and alternative interpretations of

the evidence. Example: It is clear that we require sleep in order to
function properly; however, there are several theories that can
explain the functions that sleep serves (see Module 5.1 ).
Using these critical-thinking skills might seem difficult at first. However,

with some practice, they will soon seem like a natural way of viewing the
world. They will also help you see through some rather unbelievable
stories.
Myths in Mind
Abducted by Aliens!
Independent reports of alien abductions often resemble events
and characters depicted in science fiction movies.
Shiva3d/Shutterstock
Occasionally we hear claims of alien abductions, ghost

sightings, and other paranormal activity. Countless television
shows and movies, both fictional and documentary based,

reinforce the idea that these types of events can and do occur.
Alien abductions are probably the most far-fetched stories, yet
many people believe they occur or at least regard them as a
real possibility. What is even more interesting are the extremely

detailed accounts given by purported alien abductees.
However, physical evidence of an abduction is always lacking.
So what can we make of the validity of alien abduction stories?
Scientific and critical thinking involve the use of the principle

of parsimony , which states that the simplest of all competing
explanations (the most “parsimonious”) of a phenomenon

should be the one we accept. Is there a simpler explanation for
alien abductions? Probably. Psychologists who study alien
abduction cases have discovered some interesting patterns.
First, historical reports of abductions typically spike just after
the release of science fiction movies featuring space aliens.
Details of the reports often follow specific details seen in these
movies (Clancy, 2005). Second, it probably would not be too
surprising to learn that people who report being abducted are

prone to fantasizing and having false memories (vivid
recollection and belief in something that did not happen; Lynn
& Kirsch, 1996; Spanos et al., 1994). Finally, people who claim to
have been abducted are likely to experience sleep paralysis

(waking up and becoming aware of being unable to move—a
temporary state that is not unusual) and hallucinations while in
the paralyzed state (McNally et al., 2004). You can likely see
how these three factors could explain reports of alien
abductions. Following the principle of parsimony typically leads

to real, though sometimes less spectacular, answers—although
these answers might leave the so-called “abductees” feeling
alienated.
Module 1.1 Summary
1.1a Know . . . the key terminology of the scientific method.
Review Module 1.1
1.1b Understand . . . the steps of the scientific method.
The basic model in Figure 1.1  guides us through the steps of the
scientific method. Scientific theories generate hypotheses, which are
specific and testable predictions. If a hypothesis is confirmed, new
hypotheses may stem from it, and the original theory receives added
support. If a hypothesis is rejected, the original hypothesis may be
modified and retested, or the original theory may be modified or rejected.
1.1c Understand . . . the concept of scientific literacy.
Scientific literacy refers to the process of how we think about and
understand scientific information. The model for scientific literacy was

summarized in Figure 1.3 . Working the model involves answering a set
of questions:
What do we know about a phenomenon?
How can science explain it?
Can we critically evaluate the evidence?
Why is this relevant?
You will see this model applied to concepts in each chapter of this text.
This includes gathering knowledge, explaining phenomena in scientific
terms, engaging in critical thinking, and knowing how to apply and use
your knowledge.
1.1d Apply . . . the biopsychosocial model to behaviour.
This is a model we will use throughout the text. As you consider each
topic, think about how biological factors (e.g., the brain and genetics) are
influential. Also consider how psychological factors such as thinking,

learning, emotion, and memory are relevant. Social and cultural factors
complete the model. These three interacting factors influence our
behaviour.
1.1e Apply . . . the steps in critical thinking.

To be useful, critical thinking is something not just to memorize, but
rather to use and apply. Remember, critical thinking involves (1) being
curious, (2) examining evidence, (3) examining assumptions and biases,
(4) avoiding emotional thinking, (5) tolerating ambiguity, and (6)

considering alternative viewpoints. Try applying these steps in the
activity below.
Apply Activity Applying Critical Thinking
1.1f Analyze . . . the use of the term scientific theory.
As you read in this module, the term theory is often used very casually in
the English language, sometimes synonymously with opinion. Thus, it is
important to analyze the scientific meaning of the term and contrast it

with the alternatives. A scientific theory is an explanation for a broad
range of observations, integrating numerous findings into a coherent

whole. Remember, theories are not the same thing as opinions or beliefs,
all theories are not equally plausible, and, strange as it may sound, the
quality of a scientific theory is not determined by the number of people

who believe it to be true.
Module 1.2 How Psychology
Became a Science
Nagib/Shutterstock
1.2a Know . . . the key terminology of psychology’s history.
1.2b Understand . . . how various philosophical and scientific fields
became major influences on psychology.
1.2c Apply . . . your knowledge to distinguish among the different
specializations in psychology.
1.2d Analyze . . . how the philosophical ideas of empiricism and
determinism are applied to human behaviour.
When we try to imagine the earliest investigations of human behaviour,
we rarely think about axe wounds to the head. As it turns out, we
should. The ancient Egyptians were a fierce military force for several
millennia. The wealth accumulated during these military campaigns
filled the palaces of the pharaohs with gold and jewels and allowed
them to construct massive monuments like the pyramids. But one side
effect of having many battles was that members of the Egyptian army
also suffered many injuries, including some to the head. Although the
primitive medical knowledge of the time condemned most brain-injured
patients to death, some did in fact survive and attempted to return to

their normal lives. However, as one might expect when someone has
suffered an axe (khopesh) wound to the head, such attempts were not
always successful. Similar problems had likely occurred in earlier times,
but what makes ancient Egypt stand out is that military doctors noticed
—and documented—patterns that emerged in their patients. As noted
in the Edwin Smith papyrus (obviously named after the American

discoverer, not the Egyptian authors), damage to different parts of the
brain resulted in different types of impairments ranging from problems
with vision to problems with higher-order cognitive abilities. Although

primitive by modern standards, this initial attempt to link a brain-
based injury to a change in behaviour marked the first step toward our
modern study of psychology.
Psychology has long dealt with some major questions and issues that
span philosophical inquiry and scientific study. For example,
psychologists have questioned how environmental, genetic, and

physiological processes influence behaviour. They have wrestled with the
issue of whether our behaviour is determined by external events, or if we

have free will to act. Psychology’s search for answers to these and other
questions continues, and in this module we put this search into historical
context and see how these questions have influenced the field of
psychology as it exists today.

Psychology’s Philosophical and
Scientific Origins
Science is more than a body of facts to memorize or a set of subjects to
study. Science is actually a philosophy of knowledge that stems from two
fundamental beliefs: empiricism and determinism.
Empiricism  is a philosophical tenet that knowledge comes through

experience. In everyday language, you might hear the phrase “Seeing is
believing,” but in the scientific sense, empiricism means that knowledge
about the world is based on careful observation, not on common sense or
speculation. Whatever we see or measure should be observable by
anyone else who follows the same methods. In addition, scientific

theories must be logical explanations of how the observations fit
together. Thus, although the empiricist might say, “Seeing is believing,”
thinking and reasoning about observations are just as important.
Determinism  is the belief that all events are governed by lawful, cause-and-
effect relationships. This is easy enough when we discuss natural laws such
as gravity—we probably all agree that if you drop a heavy object, it will
fall—it has no say in the matter. But does the lawfulness of nature apply to
the way we humans think and act? This opens the philosophical debate
between free will and determinism. While we certainly feel as if we are in
control of our own behaviours—that is, we sense that we have free will—
there are compelling reasons to believe that some of our behaviours are
determined. For example, when a doctor taps your patellar tendon below
your kneecap, your leg moves without waiting for “you” to decide. The
level of determinism or free will psychologists attribute to humans is
certainly debated, and to be a psychologist, you do not have to believe
that every single thought, behaviour, or experience is determined by
natural laws. But psychologists certainly do recognize that behaviour is
determined by both internal (e.g., genes, brain chemistry) and external
(e.g., cultural) influences.
Psychological science is both empirical and deterministic. We now know
that behaviour can only be understood by making observations and

testing hypotheses. We also know that behaviour occurs at several levels,
ranging from cells to societies. However, this modern knowledge did not
appear overnight. Instead, our understanding of why we behave the way
we do is built upon the hard work, creativity, and astute observational
powers of scientists throughout history dating (at least) as far back as the
ancient Mediterranean societies of Egypt, Greece, and Rome.

Influences from the Ancients: Philosophical
Insights into Behaviour
As you read in the opening section of this module, ancient Egyptian
doctors noticed that damage to different brain areas led to vastly different
impairments. While such an observation marked the first recorded linking

of biology and behaviour, it was not the only important insight to come
out of ancient societies.
In ancient Greece, the physician Hippocrates (460–370 BCE) developed
the world’s first personality classification scheme. The ancient Greeks

believed that four humours or fluids flowed throughout the body and
influenced both health and personality. These four humours included
blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm (theories were a bit gross in
ancient times). Different combinations of these four humours were
thought to lead to specific moods and behaviours. Galen of Pergamon

(127–217 CE), arguably the greatest of the ancient Roman physicians,
refined Hippocrates’s more general work and suggested that the four
humours combined to create temperaments, or emotional and personality
characteristics that remained stable throughout the lifetime. Galen’s four
temperaments (each related to a humour) included:
Sanguine (blood), a tendency to be impulsive, pleasure-seeking, and
charismatic;
Choleric (yellow bile), a tendency to be ambitious, energetic, and a bit

aggressive;
Melancholic (black bile), a tendency to be independent, a
perfectionistic, and a bit introverted; and
Phlegmatic (phlegm), a tendency to be quiet, relaxed, and content
with life.
Although such a classification system is primitive by modern standards,
the work of Hippocrates and Galen moved the understanding of human
behaviour forward by attempting to categorize different types of
personalities; we will see much more scientifically rigorous attempts to do
the same thing later in this book (see Module 12.1 ). However, the
golden age of Greek and Roman thought came to a crashing halt in the
latter part of the fourth century; this was the beginning of the Dark Ages.
Although some discoveries were made about human anatomy during this
period, few notable advances in the study of behaviour were made over
the next one thousand years.
Psychology also did not immediately benefit from the scientific revolution
of the 1500s and 1600s. Once the scientific method started to take hold
around 1600, physics, astronomy, physiology, biology, and chemistry all

experienced unprecedented growth in knowledge and technology. But it
took psychology until the late 1800s to become scientific. Why was this
the case? One of the main reasons was zeitgeist, a German word meaning
“spirit of the times.” Zeitgeist  refers to a general set of beliefs of a particular

culture at a specific time in history. It can be used to understand why some
ideas take off immediately, whereas other perfectly good ideas may go
unnoticed for years.
The power of zeitgeist can be very strong, and there are several ways it
prevented psychological science from emerging in the 1600s. Perhaps
most important is that people were not ready to accept a science that
could be applied to human behaviour and thought. To the average person
of the 1600s, viewing human behaviour as the result of predictable

physical laws was troubling. Doing so would seem to imply the
philosophy of materialism : the belief that humans, and other living beings,
are composed exclusively of physical matter. Accepting this idea would mean
that we are nothing more than complex machines that lack a self-
conscious, self-controlling soul. The opposing belief, that there are

properties of humans that are not material (a mind or soul separate from the
body), is called dualism .
Although most early thinking about the mind and behaviour remained
philosophical in nature, scientific methods were generating great

discoveries for the natural sciences of physics, biology, and physiology.
This meant that the early influences on psychology came from the natural
and physical sciences. (Figure 1.5  provides a timeline that summarizes
some of the major events in the history of psychology.)
Figure 1.5 Major Events in the History of Psychology

Left, centre: Bettmann/Corbis; left, bottom: The APA logo is a trademark of the American
Psychological Association. Reproduced with permission. No further reproduction or distribution is
permitted without written permission from the American Psychological Association; centre:
pio3/Shutterstock.com; right, centre (right): AP Images; right, centre (left): Science and
Society/SuperStock; right, bottom: Copyright © by The Canadian Society for Brain, Behaviour and
Cognitive Science (CSBBCS). Reprinted by permission.
Influences from Physics: Experimenting
with the Mind
The initial forays into scientific psychology were conducted by physicists
and physiologists. One of the earliest explorations was made by Gustav
Fechner (1801–1887), who studied sensation and perception (see Module

4.1 ). As a physicist, Fechner was interested in the natural world of
moving objects and energy. He turned his knowledge to psychological
questions about how the physical and mental worlds interact. Fechner
coined the term psychophysics , which is the study of the relationship
between the physical world and the mental representation of that world.
As an example of psychophysical research, imagine you are holding a
one-pound (0.45 kg) weight in your right hand and a five-pound (2.27 kg)
weight in your left hand. Obviously, your left hand will feel the heavier
weight, but that is not what interested Fechner. What if a researcher

places a quarter-pound weight (113 g) in each hand, resting on top of the
weight that is already there? Fechner wanted to know which of the
quarter-pound weights would be perceived as heavier. Oddly enough,
although both weigh the same amount, the quarter-pound weight in your
right hand will be more noticeable than the quarter-pound weight added
to your left hand, almost as if it were heavier (see Figure 1.6 ). Through
experiments like these, Fechner demonstrated basic principles of how the
physical and mental worlds interact. In fact, he developed an equation to
precisely calculate the perceived change in weight, and then extended this
formula to apply to changes in brightness, loudness, and other perceptual
experiences. This work served as the foundation for the modern study of
perception.
Figure 1.6 The Study of Psychophysics
Gustav Fechner studied relationships between the physical world and our
mental representations of that world. For example, Fechner tested how
people detect changes in physical stimuli.
Influences from Evolutionary Theory: The
Adaptive Functions of Behaviour
Around the same time Fechner was doing his experiments, Charles
Darwin (1809–1882) was studying the many varieties of plants and
animals found around the world. Darwin noticed that animal groups that
were isolated from one another often differed by only minor variations in
physical features. These variations seemed to fine-tune the species
according to the particular environment in which they lived, making them
better equipped for survival and reproduction. Darwin’s theory of
evolution by natural selection was based on his observations that the

genetically inherited traits that contribute to survival and reproductive
success are more likely to flourish within the breeding population (i.e.,
useful traits will be passed on to future generations). These specific traits
differ across locations because different traits will prove beneficial in
different environments. This theory explains why there is such a diversity

of life on Earth.
Charles Darwin proposed the theory of natural selection to explain how
evolution works.
Pictorial Press Ltd/Alamy Stock Photo
Darwin’s theory also helps to explain human (and animal) behaviour. As
Darwin pointed out in The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals
(1872), behaviour is shaped by natural selection, just as physical traits are
(see Module 3.1 ). Over the course of millions of years of evolution, a
certain range of behaviours helped our ancestors survive and reproduce.
The modern behaviours that we engage in every day—memory, emotions,

forming social bonds, and so on—were the same behaviours that allowed
our ancestors to flourish over the course of our species’ history. The same
principle applies to other species as well. Darwin’s recognition that
behaviours, like physical traits, are subject to hereditary influences and
natural selection was a major contribution to psychology.

Influences from Medicine: Diagnoses and
Treatments
Medicine contributed a great deal to the biological perspective in
psychology. It also had a considerable influence on the development of
clinical psychology , the field of psychology that concentrates on the

diagnosis and treatment of psychological disorders. A research topic that
impacted both fields was the study of localization of brain function , the
idea that certain parts of the brain control specific mental abilities and
personality characteristics.
In the mid-1800s, localization was studied in two different ways. The first
was phrenology, which gained considerable popularity for more than 100
years thanks to physicians Franz Gall (1758–1828)and Johann Spurzheim
(1776–1832). Gall, Spurzheim, and their followers believed that the brain
consisted of 27 “organs,” corresponding to mental traits and dispositions

that could be detected by examining the surface of the skull. Although it
seems silly now, there was a logic behind phrenology. Its supporters
believed that different traits and abilities were distributed across different
regions of the brain (e.g., “combativeness” was located at the back of the
brain behind the ears). If a person possessed a particular trait or ability,
then the brain area related to that characteristic would be larger in the
same way that the muscles in your arms would be larger if your job
required you to lift things. Larger brain areas would cause bumps on a
person’s head in the same way that a muscular arm could cause the fabric
of a shirt to stretch. So, by measuring the bumps on a person’s head,
proponents of phrenology believed that it would be possible to identify
the different traits that an individual possessed. Phrenology continued to
gather supporters for nearly a century before being abandoned by serious
scientists. You may have encountered images of the phrenological map of
the skull (see Figure 1.7 ).
Figure 1.7 A Phrenology Map
Early scholars of the brain believed that mental capacities and

personalities could be measured by the contours, bumps, and ridges
distributed across the surface of the skull.
Classic Image/Alamy Stock Photo
The other approach to localization entailed the study of brain injuries and
the ways in which they affect behaviour. This work had a scientific
grounding that phrenology lacked. There were many intriguing cases

described by physicians of the 1800s. For example:
Physician Paul Broca found that a patient who had difficulties
producing spoken language had brain damage in an area of the left
frontal lobes of brain (near his left temple).

Prussian physician Karl Wernicke found that damage to another area
in the left hemisphere led to problems comprehending language.

Doctors in Vermont described a railway employee who became
impulsive and somewhat childlike after suffering damage to part of

his frontal lobes.
These compelling clinical cases provided early brain researchers with new
information about the roles of different brain areas, findings that are still
relevant today.
Of course, the influence of the medical perspective was not isolated to

studies of the localization of brain function. Additional medical influences
on psychology came from outside of mainstream practices. Franz

Mesmer, an 18th-century Austrian physician practising in Paris, believed
that prolonged exposure to magnets could redirect the flow of metallic

fluids in the body, thereby curing disease and insanity. Although his
claim was rejected outright by the medical and scientific communities in
France, some of his patients seemed to be cured after being lulled into a
trance. Modern physicians and scientists attribute these “cures” to the
patients’ belief in the treatment—something we will describe in Chapter

2  as the placebo effect.
The medical establishment eventually grew more intrigued by the trances
Mesmer produced in his patients, naming the phenomenon hypnosis (see

Module 5.2 ). This practice also caught the attention of an Austrian
physician named Sigmund Freud (1856–1939), who began to use

hypnosis to treat his own patients. Freud was particularly interested in
how hypnosis seemed to have cured several patients of hysterical paralysis
—a condition in which an individual loses feeling and control in a specific

body part, despite the lack of any known neurological damage or disease.
These experiences led Freud to develop his famous theory and technique
called psychoanalysis.
Psychoanalysis  is a psychological approach that attempts to explain how
behaviour and personality are influenced by unconscious processes. Freud

acknowledged that conscious experience includes perceptions, thoughts,
a sense of self, and the sense that we are in control of ourselves.
However, he also believed in an unconscious mind that contained
forgotten episodes from early childhood as well as urges to fulfill self-

serving sexual and aggressive impulses. Freud proposed that because
these urges were unconscious, they could exert influence in strange ways,
such as restricting the use of a body part (i.e., hysterical paralysis). Freud
believed hypnosis played a valuable role in his work. When a person is
hypnotized, dreaming, or perhaps medicated into a trancelike state, he

thought, the psychoanalyst could have more direct access into the
individual’s unconscious mind. Once Freud gained access, he could
attempt to determine and correct any desires or emotions he believed
were causing the unconscious to create the psychosomatic conditions.

Sigmund Freud developed the concept of an unconscious mind and its
underlying processes in his theory of psychoanalysis.
Chronicle/Alamy Stock Photo
Although Freud did not conduct scientific experiments, his legacy can be
seen in some key elements of scientific psychology. First, many modern
psychologists make inferences about unconscious mental activity, just as

Freud had advocated (although not all of them agree with the specific
theories proposed by Freud). Second, the use of medical ideas to treat
disorders of emotions, thought, and behaviour—an approach known as
the medical model—can be traced to Freud’s influence. Third, Freud

incorporated evolutionary thinking into his work; he emphasized how
physiological needs and urges relating to survival and reproduction can
influence our behaviour. Finally, Freud placed great emphasis on how
early life experiences influence our behaviour as adults—a perspective
that comes up many times in this text. So, although people often mock
some of his theories, Freud’s impact on modern psychology is deserving
of respect.
The Influence of Social Sciences: Measuring
and Comparing Humans
A fifth influential force came out of the social sciences of economics,
sociology, and anthropology. These disciplines developed statistical
methods for measuring human traits, which soon became relevant to the
emerging field of psychology. An early pioneer in measuring perception
and in applying statistical analyses to the study of behaviour was Sir
Francis Galton.
Galton was also influential in the study of individual differences between

people. He noticed that great achievement tended to run in families; as a
result, Galton came to believe that heredity (genetics) could explain the
physical and psychological differences found in a population. After all,
Galton’s cousin—some guy named Charles Darwin—was a great
naturalist, his uncle Erasmus was a celebrated physician and writer, and
Galton himself was no slouch (he began reading as a two-year-old child,
and was a fan of Shakespeare by age six). To Galton, it seemed natural
that people who did better in scholarship, business, and wealth were able
to do so because they were better people (genetically speaking).
To support his beliefs, Galton developed ways of measuring what he
called eminence—a combination of ability, morality, and achievement.
One observation supporting his claim for a hereditary basis for eminence
was that the closer a relative, the more similar the traits. Galton was one
of the first investigators to scientifically take on the question of nature
and nurture relationships , the inquiry into how heredity (nature) and
environment (nurture) influence behaviour and mental processes. Galton
came down decidedly on the nature side, seemingly ignoring the
likelihood that nurturing influences such as upbringing and family
traditions, rather than biological endowments, could explain similarities
among relatives.
Galton’s beliefs and biases led him to pursue scientific justification for
eugenics, which literally translates as “good genes.” He promoted the
belief that social programs should encourage intelligent, talented

individuals to have children, whereas criminals, those with physical or
mental disability, and non-White races should not receive such
encouragement (see Module 9.1 ). The eugenics movement was based
largely on what the researchers wanted to believe was true, not on quality
research methods. It ultimately led to the mistreatment of many
individuals, particularly immigrants and the descendants of slaves who
were not of Galton’s own demographic group. It also influenced the
thinking of Adolf Hitler, with chilling consequences.
In modern times, biological and genetic approaches to explaining
behaviour are thriving (and, thankfully, eugenics has vanished). With the
advent of new brain-imaging techniques, this area of psychology—
biological psychology—is poised to provide new and important insights into

the underlying causes of our behaviour.
The Beginnings of Contemporary
Psychology
Before psychology became its own discipline, there were scientists
working across different fields who were converging on a study of human
behaviour. By modern standards, Darwin, Fechner, and others had
produced psychological research but it was not referred to as such
because the field had not yet fully formed. Nevertheless, progress toward
a distinct discipline of psychology was beginning.
By the late 1800s, the zeitgeist had changed so that the study of human
behaviour was acceptable. Ideas flourished. Most importantly,
researchers began to investigate behaviour in a number of different ways.

You will see this breadth as you read the rest of this module. We will
include references to other modules (e.g., see Module 6.1 ) to illustrate
that the history that you are reading in this module had a direct effect on
the modern understanding of behaviour that you will read about in the
rest of this text.

Structuralism and Functionalism: The
Beginnings of Psychology
Most contemporary psychologists agree that Wilhelm Wundt (1832–1920)
was largely responsible for establishing psychology as an independent
scientific field. Wundt established the first laboratory dedicated to

studying human behaviour in 1879 at the University of Leipzig, where he
conducted numerous experiments on how people sense and perceive. His
primary research method was introspection, meaning “to look within.”
Introspection required a trained volunteer to experience a stimulus and
then report each individual sensation he or she could identify. For

example, if the volunteer was given a steel ball to hold in one hand, he
would likely report the sensations of cold, hard, smooth, and heavy. To
Wundt, these basic sensations were the mental “atoms” that combined to
form the molecules of experience. Wundt also developed reaction time
methods as a way of measuring mental effort. In one such study,

volunteers watched an apparatus in which two metal balls swung into
each other to make a clicking sound. The volunteers required about one-
eighth of a second to react to the sound, leading Wundt to conclude that
mental activity is not instantaneous, but rather requires a small amount of
effort measured by the amount of time it takes to react. What made
Wundt’s work distinctly psychological was his focus on measuring mental
events and examining how they were affected by his experimental
manipulations.
Wundt’s ideas made their way to the United States and Canada through
students who worked with him. However, whereas Wundt’s research
often attempted to link a person’s perceptions with concepts such as free
will (a philosophy known as voluntarism), many of his students wanted to
move psychological research in a different direction (Rieber & Robinson,
1980). One student, Edward Titchener, adopted the same method of
introspection used by Wundt to devise an organized map of the structure
of human consciousness. His line of research, structuralism , was an
attempt to analyze conscious experience by breaking it down into basic elements,
and to understand how these elements work together. Titchener chose the
term elements deliberately as an analogy with the periodic table in the
physical sciences. He believed that mental experiences were made up of a
limited number of sensations, which were analogous to elements in
physics and chemistry. According to Titchener, different sensations can
form and create complex compounds, just like hydrogen and oxygen can
combine to form water—H2O—or the hydroxide ion—OH. The challenge
for psychologists was to determine which elements were grouped

together during different conscious experiences and to figure out what
caused these specific groupings to occur (Titchener, 1898).

German scientist Wilhelm Wundt is widely credited as the founder of
experimental psychology.
AKG Images/Newscom
The same year Wundt set up his first laboratory, an American scholar
named William James (1842–1910) set out to write the first textbook in
psychology, The Principles of Psychology, which was eventually published

in 1890. Trained as a physician, James combined his knowledge of
physiology with his interest in the philosophy of mental activity. Among

his many interests, he sought to understand how the mind functions. In
contrast to structuralism, which looks for permanent, unchanging

elements of thought, James was influenced by Darwin’s evolutionary
principles; he preferred to examine behaviour in context and explain how

our thoughts and actions help us adapt to our environment. This led to
the development of functionalism , the study of the purpose and function of
behaviour and conscious experience. According to functionalists, in order to

fully understand a behaviour, one must try to figure out what purpose it
may have served over the course of our evolution. These principles are
found today in the modern field of evolutionary psychology, an approach

that interprets and explains modern human behaviour in terms of forces
acting upon our distant ancestors (see Module 3.1 ). According to this
approach, our brains and behaviours have been shaped by the physical
and social environment that our ancestors encountered. Over the next
century, this idea was extended to a number of subfields in psychology
ranging from the study of brain structures to the study of social groups.
Indeed, regardless of their research area, most psychologists are still
fascinated by the question, What function does the behaviour we’re
investigating serve? In other words, why do we behave the way we do?

Margaret Floy Washburn was intrigued by Wundt's structuralism, and
became an innovator in comparative psychology. Not only was she the
first woman granted a PhD in psychology, she was one of the most
prolific scientists of her time.
Alamy Stock Photo
During the early years of psychology, the pioneers of this field were
trying to find a way to use the methods and instruments of the natural
sciences to understand behaviour. Although some of their techniques fell
out of favour, by the beginning of the 20th century it was clear that the
discipline of psychology was here to stay. With that sense of permanence

in place, the second generation of psychologists could focus on refining
the subject matter and the methods, and on turning psychology into a
widely accepted scientific field.
The Rise of Behaviourism
Early in the 20th century, scientists became interested in how organisms
learn to anticipate their bodily functions and responses. One of the first to
do so was Edwin Twitmyer (1873–1943), an American psychologist
interested in reflexes. His work involved a contraption with a rubber
mallet that would regularly tap the patellar tendon just below the
kneecap; this, of course, causes a kicking reflex in most individuals. To
make sure his volunteers were not startled by the mallet, the contraption
would ring a bell right before the mallet struck the tendon. As is often the
case in experiments, the technology failed after a number of these bell-
ringing and hammer-tapping combinations: The machine rang the bell,

but the hammer did not come down on the volunteer’s knee. But the real
surprise was this—the volunteer’s leg kicked anyway! How did that
happen? Because the sound of the bell successfully predicted the hammer,
the ringing soon had the effect of the hammer itself, a process now called
classical conditioning (see Module 6.1 ). The study of conditioning would
soon become a focus of behaviourism , an approach that dominated the
first half of the 20th century of North American psychology and had a singular
focus on studying only observable behaviour, with little to no reference to
mental events or instincts as possible influences on behaviour.
Twitmyer’s research was coolly received when he announced his findings
at the American Psychological Association meeting. Not a single
colleague bothered to ask him a question. The credit for discovering
classical conditioning typically goes to a Russian physiologist named Ivan

Pavlov (1849–1936). Pavlov, who won the 1904 Nobel Prize for his
research on the digestive system, noticed that the dogs in his laboratory
began to salivate when the research technician entered the room and
turned on the device that distributed the meat powder (food).
Importantly, salivation occurred before the delivery of food, suggesting
that the dogs had learned an association between the technician and
machine noises and the later appearance of food. This observation
quickly led to more focused research on mechanisms of learning; the
principles of learning that Pavlov and others identified provided a
foundation for the behaviourist movement.
Ivan Pavlov (on the right) explained classical conditioning through his
studies of salivary reflexes in dogs.
Time Life Pictures/Mansell/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images
In North America, behaviourism was championed by John B. Watson, a

researcher at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore (1878–1958). As
research accumulated on the breadth of behaviours that could be
conditioned, Watson began to believe that all behaviour could ultimately
be explained through conditioning. This emphasis on learning also came
with stipulations about what could and could not be studied in

psychology. Watson was adamant that only observable changes in the
environment and behaviour were appropriate for scientific study.

Methods such as Wundt’s introspection, he said, were too subjective to
even consider:
Psychology as the behaviorist views it is a purely objective natural science. Its theoretical goal is the
prediction and control of behavior. Introspection forms no essential part of its methods. (Watson,
1913, p. 158)
In the diplomatic world of science, this statement was akin to carving
“Wundt sucks!” in a park bench. Watson believed so much in the power

of experience (and so little in the power of genetics) that he was certain
he could engineer a personality however he wished, if given enough

control over the environment. Perhaps his most famous statement sums it
up:
Give me a dozen healthy infants, well-formed, and my own specified world to bring them up in and I’ll
guarantee to take any one at random and train him to become any type of specialist I might select—
doctor, lawyer, artist, merchant-chief and, yes, even beggar-man and thief, regardless of his talents,
penchants, tendencies, abilities, vocations, and race of his ancestors. (Watson, J. B. (1930).
Behaviorism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. p. 82)
As you can see, Watson led the behaviourist movement with a level of
confidence that some would describe as unwarranted and arrogant. The
important takeaway message, however, is that this rigorous, behaviourist

approach to psychology led to important scientific insights in the
laboratory, as well as some interesting applications in the real world.
In addition to leading the charge for a more objective psychological
science, Watson also explored the connection between scientific research

(collecting data and testing theories) and application (using psychology to
solve real problems and improve lives). It is important to see that the
real-world applications of psychology stem from quality research, just as
you should see how even very basic research can lead to applications. To
emphasize the connection between research and application, we will
present this Psych@ feature once in every chapter. In this case, we will
tell you about how John B. Watson took research from the lab and
applied it to business.
Psych@
The Advertising Agency
After a rather public indiscretion involving a female graduate

student (due to his wife's social status, his extramarital affair
appeared on the front page of the Baltimore newspapers;
Fancher, 1990), Watson was dismissed from his university job.
But he quickly found his new career—as well as his fortune—in

advertising. Most advertisers at the time just assumed they
should inform people about the merits of a product. Watson
and his colleagues applied a scientific approach to advertising
and discovered a consumer's knowledge about the product
really was not that important, so long as he or she had positive

emotions associated with it. Thus, Watson's company
developed ads that employed behaviourist principles to form
associations between a product's brand image and positive
emotions. If Pavlov's dogs could be conditioned to salivate

when they heard a tone, what possibilities might there be for
conditioning humans in a similar way?Modern advertisers want
the logos for their brands of snacks or the trademark signs for
their restaurants to bring on a specific craving, and some

salivation along the way. And so, from beer commercials with
scantily clad women dancing at parties, to car commercials
with high-intensity music and vistas of the Cabot Trail, and from
impossibly cute kittens playing with toilet paper rolls to giant
billboards of bunnies and hippos pitching telecommunications
products, the influence of John B. Watson and his colleagues

on modern advertising is felt every day.
Radical Behaviourism
The study of learning was not limited to classical conditioning. As early as
1905, psychologists such as Edward Thorndike (1874–1949) had shown
that the frequency of different behaviours could be changed based on
whether or not that behaviour led to positive consequences or
“satisfaction” (Thorndike, 1905). Taking up the reins from Thorndike was

B. F. Skinner (1904–1990), another behaviourist who had considerable
influence over North American psychology for several decades (see
Module 6.2 ).
In Skinner’s view, known as radical behaviourism, the foundation of

behaviour was how an organism responded to rewards and punishments.
This theory is logical in many ways—we tend to repeat actions that are
rewarded (e.g., studying for exams leads to better grades, so we study for
other exams) and avoid actions that lead to punishment (e.g., if you vomit
after eating a 2L container of ice cream, you will be unlikely to do so

again . . . for a while). In order to identify the principles of reward and
punishment, Skinner opted to use a tightly controlled experimental setup
involving animals such as rats and pigeons. Typically, these studies
occurred with animals held in small chambers in which they could
manipulate a lever to receive rewards. The experimenter would control
when rewards were available, and would observe the effects that
changing the reward schedule had on the animals’ behaviour. You might
ask what this work had to do with human behaviour. The behaviourists
believed that the principles of reward and punishment could apply to all
organisms, both human and nonhuman. Indeed, Watson explicitly stated
that behaviourist psychology “recognizes no line between man and brute”
(Watson, 1913, p. 158).
B. F. Skinner revealed how rewards affect behaviour by conducting

laboratory studies on animals.
Nina Leen/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images

Social and Cultural Influences
The vast majority of behaviourist and cognitive psychology research
focuses on an individual’s responses to some sort of stimulus. Missing
from this equation, however, is that fact that people often have to
respond to stimuli or events in the presence of other people. The effects
of other people on a person’s behaviour have not been lost on

psychologists; indeed, the recognition of this influence can be found in
the very early years of psychology. An American psychologist, Norman
Triplett (1861–1931), conducted one of the first formal experiments in
this area, observing that cyclists ride faster in the presence of other
people than when riding alone. Triplett published the first social
psychology research in 1898, and a few social psychology textbooks
appeared in 1908.
Despite the early interest in this field, studies of how people influence the
behaviour of others did not take off until the 1940s. The events in Nazi-
controlled Germany that led up to World War II contributed to the
development of this new perspective in psychology. Images from the
Holocaust highlighted the need to learn about the role that social factors
play in human behaviour. Researchers (and the general public) wanted to
understand how normal individuals could be transformed into brutal
prison camp guards, how political propaganda affected people, and how
society might address issues of stereotyping and prejudice (see Module
13.1 ). This research evolved into what is now known as social
psychology , the study of the influence of other people on our behaviour.

However, psychologists also noted that not all people responded to social
groups or the presence of others in the same way. While some people
were transformed into prison camp guards in World War II, others
objected and joined resistance movements. These individual differences
were observable in normal, everyday life as well: Some people are
talkative and outgoing while others are quiet. These observations led to
the development of personality psychology , the study of how different
personality characteristics can influence how we think and act.

Social psychologists are often motivated to study human behaviours
observed in real-world events. In many cases, they hope to reduce the
likelihood of an event happening again.
akg-images/Newscom
Although it’s easy to think of social psychology (the effect of external

factors) and personality psychology (the effect of internal traits) as being
distinct, in reality, your personality and the social situations you are in
interact. This relationship was most eloquently described by Kurt Lewin
(1890–1947), the founder of modern social psychology. Lewin suggested

that behaviour is a function of the individual and the environment, or, if
you’re a fan of formulas (and who isn’t?), B = f{I,E}. What Lewin meant
was that all behaviours could be predicted and explained through

understanding how an individual with a specific set of traits would
respond in a context that involved a specific set of conditions. Take two

individuals as an example: One tends to be quiet and engages in solitary
activities such as reading, whereas the other is talkative and enjoys being
where the action is. Now put them in a social situation, such as a large
party at a university dorm or a small get-together at a friend’s house. How

will the two behave? Given the disparity between the individuals and
between the two environments, we would suspect that very different

behaviours would emerge from these two individuals in the different
settings. The outgoing person may have a wonderful time at the big party,
while the quiet person desperately tries to find someone to talk to or

pretends to be fascinated by something on their phone. But, at the smaller
get-together, the quieter person will likely be much more relaxed, while
the outgoing person might be bored. Neither behaviour is better, but they
are different. These outcomes illustrate the essence of Lewin’s formulation

of social psychology.
The Cognitive Revolution
Although behaviourism dominated psychology in the United States and
Canada throughout the first half of the 20th century, the view that
observable behaviours were more important than thoughts and mental
imagery was not universal. In Europe, psychologists retained an emphasis
on thinking, and ignored the North Americans’ cries to study only what
could be directly observed. The European focus on thought flourished
through the early 1900s, long before psychologists in North America
began to take seriously the idea that they could study mental processes,
even if they could not directly see them. Thus, it was the work of
European psychologists that formed the basis of the cognitive perspective.

Early evidence of an emerging cognitive perspective concerned the study
of memory. The German psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus (1850–1909)
collected reams of data on remembering and forgetting (see Module
7.2 ). British psychologist Frederick Bartlett (1886–1969) found that our
memory was not like a photograph. Instead, our cultural knowledge and
previous experiences shape what elements of an event or storyline are
judged to be important enough to remember.
Another precursor to cognitive psychology can be seen in the early to
mid-1900s movement of Gestalt psychology , an approach emphasizing
that psychologists need to focus on the whole of perception and experience,
rather than its parts (see Module 4.1 ). (Gestalt is a German word that
refers to the complete form of an object; see Figure 1.8 .) This contrasts
with the structuralist goal of breaking experience into its individual parts.
For example, if Wundt or Titchener were to hand you an apple, you
would not think, “Round, red, has a stem . . .”; you would simply think to
yourself, “This is an apple.” Gestalt psychologists argued that much of our
thinking and experience occur at a higher, more organized level than
Wundt emphasized; they believed that Wundt’s approach to
understanding experience made about as much sense as understanding
water only by studying its hydrogen and oxygen atoms.
Figure 1.8 The Whole Is Greater Than the Sum of Its Parts
The Gestalt psychologists emphasized humans’ ability to see whole

forms. For example, you probably perceive a sphere in the centre of this
figure, even though it does not exist on the page.
The invention of the computer gave psychologists a useful analogy for

understanding and talking about the mind (the software of the brain).
Linguists such as Noam Chomsky argued that grammar and vocabulary

were far too complex to be explained in behaviourist terms; the
alternative was to propose abstract mental processes. There was a great

deal of interest in memory and perception as well, but it was not until
1968 that these areas of research were given the name “cognitive
psychology” by Ulrich Neisser (1928–2012). Cognitive psychology  is a
modern psychological perspective that focuses on processes such as memory,

thinking, and language. Thus, much of what cognitive psychologists study
consists of mental processes that are inferred through rigorous

experimentation.
Humanistic Psychology Emerges
Psychology, by the mid-20th century, was dominated by two
perspectives, behaviourism and Freudian psychoanalytic approaches,
which had almost entirely removed free will from the understanding of
human behaviour. To the behaviourists, human experience was the
product of a lifetime of rewards, punishments, and learned associations.

To the psychoanalysts, human experience was the result of unconscious
forces at work deep in the human psyche. From both perspectives, the
individual person was merely a product of forces that operated on them,
and they had little if any control over their own destiny or, indeed, even
their own choices, beliefs, and feelings.
In contrast to these disempowering perspectives, a new movement of
psychologists arose that emphasized personal responsibility; free will;
and the universal longing for growth, meaning, and connection; and that
highlighted the power that individuals possessed to shape their own

consciousness and choose their own path through life. This new
perspective, humanistic psychology , focuses on the unique aspects of each
individual human, each person’s freedom to act, his or her rational thought, and
the belief that humans are fundamentally different from other animals. Among
the many major figures of humanistic psychology were Carl Rogers
(1902–1987) and Abraham Maslow (1908–1970). Both psychologists
focused on the positive aspects of humanity and the factors that lead to a
productive and fulfilling life. Humanistic psychologists sought to
understand the meaning of personal experience. They believed that

people could attain mental well-being and satisfaction through gaining a
greater understanding of themselves, rather than by being diagnosed with
a disorder or having their problems labelled. Both Rogers and Maslow
believed that humans strive to develop a sense of self and are motivated
to personally grow and fulfill their potential (see Module 12.3 ). This
view stands in particular contrast to the psychoanalytic tradition that
originated in a medical model and, therefore, focused on illnesses of the
body and brain. The humanistic perspective also contrasted with
behaviourism in proposing that humans had the freedom to act and a
rational mind to guide the process.

The Brain and Behaviour
The behaviourists and humanists were not the only researchers
attempting to understand human abilities. Many neurologists, surgeons,
and brain scientists were also focused on these questions. Notable among
them was Donald Hebb (1904–1985), a Canadian neuroscientist working
at the Montreal Neurological Institute. Hebb conducted numerous studies

examining how cells in the brain change over the course of learning. He
observed that when a brain cell consistently stimulates another cell,
metabolic and physical changes occur to strengthen this relationship. In
other words, cells that fire together wire together (Hebb, 1949; see
Module 7.1 ). This theory, now known as Hebb’s Law, demonstrated that
memory—a behaviour that we can measure and that affects so many parts
of our lives—is actually related to activity occurring at the cellular level
(Brown & Milner, 2003; Cooper, 2005). It also reinforced the notion that
behaviour can be studied at a number of levels ranging from neurons
(brain cells) to the entire brain. (Later research, discussed in Module

7.3 , has noted that memory is related to social factors as well.)
Donald Hebb made significant contributions to our understanding of
memory and the brain.
Montreal Gazette/The Canadian Press
Further evidence for the relationship between the brain and everyday
behaviours came from the stimulating work of Wilder Penfield (1891–
1976), founder and original director of the Montreal Neurological

Institute. Along with his colleague, Herbert Jasper, Penfield developed a
surgical procedure to help patients with epilepsy. This procedure

involved removing cells from the brain regions where the seizures began;
doing so would prevent the seizures from spreading to other areas of the
brain. However, before operating, Penfield needed to find a way to map
out the functions of the surrounding brain regions so that he could try to
avoid damaging areas that performed important functions such as
language. To do this, Penfield electrically stimulated specific areas of each

patient’s brain while the patient was under local anesthetic (i.e., was
awake and therefore conscious). The patient was then able to report the
sensations they experienced after each burst of electricity. Based on
several patients’ reports, Penfield was able to create precise maps of the
sensory and motor (movement) cortices in the brain (Penfield & Jasper,
1951; Todman, 2008). Importantly, his work also showed that people’s
subjective experiences can be represented in the brain (see Module

3.3 ). This insight suggested that the simple learning model put forth by
the behaviourists was not a complete representation of our complex

mental world.
Wilder Penfield, founder of the world-famous Montreal Neurological
Institute, used electrical stimulation of the brain to discover how
movement and touch were represented in the brain. Like Donald Hebb’s,
many of his discoveries are still taught in psychology and neuroscience
classes throughout the world.
Montreal Gazette/The Canadian Press

Emerging Themes in Psychology
The history of psychology is not over, of course. All of the fields discussed
in the previous section of this module continue today. Indeed, psychology
is expanding, examining new topics and using new research tools to
provide interesting insights into human behaviour. In this section, we
highlight five trends or topics that are becoming particularly prominent in

psychology. This is not an exhaustive list of “hot topics.” Instead, it is a list
of important themes that are currently influencing the course of modern
psychology.
Psychology of Women
After reading earlier sections of this module, many readers might assume
that psychology is the exclusive domain of older white men, many
sporting impressive beards. In fact, this module does have photographs of
nine prominent male psychologists (five with beards). However, there
were female psychologists teaching and performing research during the

early stages of the history of psychology. Indeed, Anna Freud (1895–
1982) and Karen Horney (1885–1952) made groundbreaking
contributions to our understanding of personality. The 1960s saw a
dramatic shift in both the role of women in society and in the study of the
psychology of women. Until then, many people believed that the male
domination of society was due to innate differences between the sexes
that made men better leaders; women were thought to be more agreeable
and emotional. However, pioneering research from psychologists such as
Sandra Bem began to change these views. Researchers began examining
how sex differences in power were due in large part to the rampant
sexism in politics, the business world, academia, and the home (Bem &
Bem, 1973). They also examined how stereotypes could affect women’s
beliefs about their own abilities (Bem, 1981, 1993). This research led to
changes that helped promote more opportunities for women, and this has
been especially true in psychology. In North American universities,
women outnumber men in psychology graduate programs in every
subfield—more than three to one in clinical and counselling psychology
graduate programs (Figure 1.9 ; Fowler et al., 2018). Nonetheless, there
remain challenges that affect the sexes differently. Therefore, this

important work continues today, with new generations of female and male
psychologists working to promote equality.
Figure 1.9 Gender Percentages in Doctoral Psychology Programs
Female doctoral students in psychology now outnumber males in every

major field. This shift is in contrast to scientific psychology's first few
decades when many universities would not even admit or award degrees
to women.
American Psychological Association

Studies of the psychology of women also examine important issues such
as women’s health, violence toward women, and experiences that are
unique to females (e.g., pregnancy). However, this field is not meant to

appear “man hating” or exclusive. In fact, many researchers are interested
in differences between the sexes and how they influence social

behaviour. For instance, in Module 14.2 , you will read about the
research of Shelly Taylor, who examined sex differences in response to

stress. She found that while males in general produce a “fight or flight”
response to stress, females are more likely to seek out social supports, a
tendency she called the “tend and befriend” response (Taylor et al., 2000).
Although a complete description of the psychology of women requires its
own course, the purpose of this section is to highlight this topic for
readers so that they will see how important these types of questions can
be for understanding human behaviour, and so that they can better

appreciate the obstacles that many of these early researchers faced.
Comparing Cultures
In addition to studying differences between the sexes, researchers have
performed numerous studies examining how human behaviour differs
across cultures. Cross-cultural psychology is the field that draws
comparisons about individual and group behaviour among cultures; it
helps us understand the role of society in shaping behaviour, beliefs, and

values. Many cross-cultural studies compare the responses of North
American research participants (generally psychology students like you)
to those of individuals in non-Western countries such as China or Japan.
However, Western countries with high immigration rates like Canada and
the United States also provide researchers with the opportunity to

compare the responses and experiences of first- and second-generation
Canadians (Abouguendia & Noels, 2001; Gaudet et al., 2005). This type
of research therefore allows us to examine how people respond when
being pulled in different directions by family history and the culture of
their current country of residence. Such comparisons are also being

performed using brain imaging, demonstrating that our social and
cultural experiences can also be embedded in our brain tissue (Losin et
al., 2010).
The Neuroimaging Explosion
Although it has been possible to detect brain activity using sensors
attached to the scalp since the late 1920s, the use of brain imaging to
study behaviour became much more common in the early 1990s. It was at
this time that a technique known as functional magnetic resonance imaging
(fMRI) was developed. fMRI allows us to reliably detect activity

throughout the entire brain and to depict this activity on clear three-
dimensional images (see Module 3.4 ). Initially, fMRI was used to
examine relatively straightforward behaviours such as visual perception.
However, it quickly became the “go to” tool for researchers interested in
understanding the neural mechanisms for cognitive behaviours such as

memory, emotion, and decision making. This field, which combines
elements of cognitive psychology and biopsychology is known as cognitive
neuroscience.
fMRIs allow us to reliably detect activity throughout the entire brain and
to depict this activity in clear three-dimensional images.
Living Art Enterprises/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source
As fMRI became accessible, researchers in other fields of psychology
began to incorporate it into their studies. Psychologists studying social

behaviours ranging from racism to relationships use fMRI in their
experiments; this new field is known as social neuroscience. Neuroimaging
has also been used to study personality traits and consumer behaviour. In
fact, it is difficult to find an area not touched by the development of
neuroimaging technologies.
The Search for the Positive
Another rapidly growing area of psychology involves promoting human
strengths and potentials. Rather than focusing on pathologies or negative
events such as rejection, the goal of positive psychology is to help people
see the good in their lives by promoting self-acceptance and improving
social relationships with others. The eventual goal of this field is to help
people experience feelings of happiness and fulfillment; in short, to help
them flourish (Seligman & Csikszentmihalyi, 2000).
Positivity has been linked with improvements in some cognitive abilities
(Fredrickson, 2003) and to changes in neural pathways associated with

controlling your attention (Tang et al., 2010). In fact, researchers are only
beginning to understand the potential benefits of positive thinking.
Elements of positive psychology can be found in a number of areas of
psychological study, ranging from our motivation to achieve (Module
11.3 ) to techniques for coping with stress and psychological disorders

(Modules 14.3  and 16.2 ).
Psychology in the Real World
Finally, it is important to remember that psychology research isn’t limited
to the laboratory. Although many researchers are interested in the basic
mechanisms of human behaviour, many others apply psychological
science in different settings. Applied psychology can take place in schools,
in the workplace, in the military, or in a number of other settings. For

example, researchers at Memorial University in Newfoundland are
performing research that will lead to improvements in how children are
interviewed in the legal arena (Eastwood et al., 2016; Snook et al., 2014);
researchers at the University of Alberta, University of Victoria, Queen’s
University, and Simon Fraser University examine other areas of

psychology in the law, ranging from psychopathy to eyewitness testimony
(Douglas et al., 2009; Lindsay et al., 2008). Psychologists across the
country have come together to help develop anti-bullying policy and
educational initiatives (www.prevnet.ca). Industrial/organizational
psychologists at the University of Guelph, University of Waterloo, and St.

Mary’s University, among others, apply psychological research to the
workplace, helping to ensure that the work environment is fair for all
employees. Human factors psychologists help to ensure that our
interactions with technologies ranging from computer programs to
airplane cockpits are intuitive and efficient. And psychologists are also
involved in the promotion of environmentally sustainable behaviours,
searching for factors that influence attitudes toward the environment, and
for ways to transform our society into one that works with nature, rather
than against it (Hirsh & Dolderman, 2007; Nisbet & Gick, 2008). In short,
psychological science affects every aspect of our society, even if we don’t
realize or appreciate it.
Psychologists work in a number of applied settings. For example,

researchers from a number of provinces are involved in important anti-
bullying research. These studies are used to influence policies of
provincial agencies and local school boards.
SDI Productions/E+/Getty Images
#Psych
Psychology in the Digital World
Most readers are likely to be “digital natives,” people born in
the 1990s or later who have never known a world without the
internet and mobile phones. It is difficult to overstate the
impact that the internet has had on how we follow current

events, entertain ourselves, and socialize. In many ways, having
immediate access to information has improved quality of life;
however, recent current events show us that biased or even

completely inaccurate stories on the web can have negative
effects that are every bit as powerful as the positive ones.

Misinformation has influenced political beliefs and health
decisions to such a degree that national elections have been

swayed and once-banished diseases have made a comeback in
some parts of the world. This power of the internet to shape

individuals’ beliefs and behaviour has led some psychologists
to study the wired world with the same scientific rigour as the
so-called real world.
In order to get readers thinking critically about their electronic

activity, we have added a new feature to the Canadian edition
of this text: #Psych. In each chapter, we hope to show readers

that the concepts you learn about in class also apply to your
digital life. As an example, think about the type of information
you encounter on your Instagram feed or on social-forum

websites such as reddit.com. A recent study from Stanford
University reported that 82% of American junior high school

students could not distinguish between a real news story and
sponsored content—often highly biased information written by

individuals or organizations who pay to have their opinions
interspersed among more factual information (Wineburg et al.,

2016). These students tended to view more detailed stories and
news items with larger photos as being more believable,

regardless of the topic. In other words, they focused on
superficial characteristics of the stimuli rather than using their
critical-thinking skills to identify the highly questionable

information presented in sponsored content. Our hope is that
the #Psych feature boxes will make you a more critical

consumer of the information you encounter as you navigate
through your own digital world.
In conclusion, the trends that emerged during the formative years of

psychology laid the foundation for the modern perspectives and theories
we see today. Psychology is now a clearly established discipline—there

are established venues such as professional organizations and journals to
disseminate the results of psychological research. Although modern
technology, such as brain imaging and computing, would astound
psychology’s founders, it is likely that they would find the results of

modern research absolutely relevant to their own interests. It is also likely
that they would be enthusiastic about the increasing levels of
collaboration among the various areas of psychology, and about the
current zeitgeist of treating human behaviour as a complex system with
biological, psychological, and sociocultural components.

Module 1.2 Summary
1.2a Know . . . the key terminology of psychology’s history.
Review Module 1.2
1.2b Understand . . . how various philosophical and scientific

fields became major influences on psychology.
The philosophical schools of determinism, empiricism, and materialism
provided a background for a scientific study of human behaviour. The

first psychologists were trained as physicists and physiologists. Fechner,
for example, developed psychophysics, whereas Titchener looked for the
elements of thought. Darwin’s theory of natural selection influenced
psychologist William James’s idea of functionalism—the search for how
behaviours may aid the survival and reproduction of the organism.
1.2c Apply . . . your knowledge to distinguish among the

different specializations in psychology.
Apply Activity
Apply your knowledge to distinguish among different specializations in
psychology. You should be able to read a description of a psychologist on

the left of Table 1.1  and match their work to a specialization on the
right.
Table 1.1 Areas of Specialization within Psychology

1.2d Analyze . . . how the philosophical ideas of empiricism and
determinism are applied to human behaviour.
Psychology is based on empiricism, the belief that all knowledge—
including knowledge about human behaviour—is acquired through the

senses. All sciences, including psychology, require a deterministic
viewpoint. Determinism is the philosophical tenet that all events in the

world, including human actions, have a physical cause. The deterministic
view is also essential to the sciences. Applying determinism to human
behaviour has been met with resistance by many because it appears to

deny a place for free will.
Chapter 2
Reading and Evaluating Scientific
Research
2.1 Principles of Scientific Research
Five Characteristics of Quality Scientific Research
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Demand Characteristics
and Participant Behaviour
Five Characteristics of Poor Research
Module 2.1 Summary
2.2 Scientific Research Designs
Descriptive Research
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Case Studies as a Form

of Scientific Research
Correlational Research
Experimental Research
Module 2.2 Summary
2.3 Ethics in Psychological Research
Promoting the Welfare of Research Participants
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Animal Models of
Disease
Ethical Collection, Storage, and Reporting of Data
Module 2.3 Summary

2.4 A Statistical Primer
Descriptive Statistics
Hypothesis Testing: Evaluating the Outcome of a Study
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Statistical Significance
Module 2.4 Summary

Module 2.1 Principles of Scientific
Research
Hero Images Inc./Alamy Stock Photo

2.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to the principles of
scientific research.
2.1b Understand . . . the five characteristics of quality scientific

research.
2.1c Understand . . . how biases might influence the outcome of a
study.
2.1d Apply . . . the concepts of reliability and validity to examples.
2.1e Analyze . . . whether anecdotes, authority figures, and common

sense are reliably truthful sources of information.
Can changing your posture make you more confident and powerful
while reducing your body’s stress responses? In June 2012, a Harvard
psychologist made this claim during a TED Talk that became an

enormous hit—it has been viewed over 50 million times on the TED
channel (TED, 2019) and 16 million more on YouTube (YouTube,

2019). The idea is that we can gain these benefits by assuming a power
pose. Imagine the stance of a superhero, standing tall and straight, fists
on hips with elbows out, widening the pose. This is the posture of an
individual confident in their power. Adopting this type of power pose
for a mere two minutes is enough to change the way you think and feel,
according to the speaker. Moreover, she linked power posing to
increases in hormones contributing to assertiveness while stress

hormones were reduced. Before you stand up and assume that position,
however, you should know that other researchers have tried the same
types of experiments without finding the same results (e.g., Ranehill et
al., 2015), particularly regarding the hormonal changes. In another

scientific paper, two statisticians argued that the outcome of the
original research resulted from inappropriate data analysis (Simmons
& Simonshon, 2017). In fact, enough evidence emerged that the lead
author in the original research has since come out against power
posing, describing flaws they overlooked in earlier studies (Carney,
n.d.). This is not meant to damage the reputation of the original

researchers, but instead to emphasize how important it is for
psychologists to carefully follow established research methods and

procedures—the topic of this chapter.
This chapter might be the most important one in the text. It will give you
the training to become a critical consumer of scientific claims that are
made by the media, corporations, politicians, and even scientists. Every

time you open a news website, you encounter scientific topics such as
how certain foods are linked with cancer risks or psychological issues, or
you read about wonder drugs that will improve your grades. Some of this
research is fantastic, but some is not. The goal of this chapter is to help
you separate the good from the questionable, and to show you that
asking tough questions about how research was designed and conducted
is never a bad thing. Doing so prevents you from being manipulated into
buying products and accepting campaign promises that do not hold up to
scrutiny. Furthermore, you might find that the most effective ways to
build self-confidence take more than two minutes.
What makes science such a powerful technique for examining behaviour?
Perhaps the single most important aspect of scientific research is that it

strives for objectivity. Objectivity assumes that certain facts about the
world can be observed and tested independently by the individual who
describes them (e.g., the scientist). Everyone—not just the experts—

should be able to agree on these facts given the same tools, the same
methods, and the same context. Achieving objectivity is not a simple task,
however.
As soon as people observe an event, their interpretation of it becomes
subjective, meaning that their knowledge of the event is shaped by prior
beliefs, expectations, experiences, and even their mood. A scientific,

objective approach to answering questions differs greatly from a
subjective one. Most individuals tend to regard a scientific approach as
one that is rigorous and demands proof. In this module, we will discuss
the key elements of this scientific approach, and how it can help us
understand human behaviour.
Five Characteristics of Quality Scientific
Research
During the past few centuries, scientists have developed methods to help
bring us to an objective understanding of the world. The drive for
objectivity influences how scientific research is conducted in at least five
ways. Quality scientific research meets the following criteria:
1. It is based on measurements that are objective, valid, and reliable.
2. It can be generalized.
3. It uses techniques that reduce bias.
4. It is made public.
5. It can be replicated.
As you will soon read, these five characteristics of good research overlap
in many ways, and they will apply to any of the methods of conducting
research that you will read about in this text.

Scientific Measurement: Objectivity
The foundation of scientific methodology is the use of objective
measurements , the measure of an entity or behaviour that, within an
allowed margin of error, is consistent across instruments and observers. In
other words, the way that a quality or a behaviour is measured must be
the same regardless of who is doing the measuring and the exact tool
being used. For example, weight is measured in pounds or kilograms.
One kilogram in St. John’s is the same as one kilogram in Victoria—
researchers don’t get to choose how much mass a kilogram is worth.
Similarly, your weight will be the same regardless of whether you’re using
the scale in your bathroom or the scale in the change room at the gym.
However, your weight will vary slightly from scale to scale—this is the
margin of error mentioned in the definition. Scientists in a given field
have to agree upon how much variability is allowable. Most people will
be comfortable if their weight differs by one or two kilograms depending
on the scale being used. But, if you weigh 70 kg on one scale and 95 kg on
the other, then you know one of your measurement tools is inaccurate.
In this example, weight would be considered a variable , the object,
concept, or event being controlled, manipulated, or measured by a scientist.
Variables are an essential part of the research described in every chapter
of this text ranging from perceptual processes, to learning and memory,
to how we interact with each other, and so on. For most of psychology’s
history, measurements involved observations of behaviour in different
situations or examinations of how participants responded on a

questionnaire or to stimuli presented on a computer. However, as
technology advanced, so did the ability to ask psychological questions in
new and interesting ways. High-tech equipment, such as functional
magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), allows researchers to view the brain
and see which areas are activated while you perform a variety of tasks
such as remembering words or viewing emotional pictures. Other
physiological measures might involve gathering samples of blood or
saliva, which can then be analyzed for enzymes, hormones, and other
biological variables that relate to behaviour and mental functioning. With
this greater number of measurement options, it’s now possible to

examine the same variable (e.g., anxiety) using a number of different
techniques. Doing so strengthens our ability to understand the different
elements of behaviour.
Regardless of the specific experimental question being asked, any method
used by a researcher to measure a variable needs to include carefully
defined terms. This isn’t always as easy as it sounds. How would you
define personality, shyness, or cognitive ability? This is the type of
question a researcher would want to answer very carefully, not only for
planning and conducting a study, but also when sharing the results of
that research. In order to do so, researchers must decide upon a precise

definition that other researchers can understand. These operational
definitions  are statements that describe the procedures (or operations) and
specific measures that are used to record observations (Figure 2.1 ). For
example, depression could be operationally defined as “a score of 20 or

higher on the Beck Depression Inventory” (Beck & Steer, 1977), with the
measure being a common and widely accepted clinical questionnaire.
Figure 2.1 Operational Definitions

A variable, such as the level of intoxication, can be operationally defined
in multiple ways. This figure shows operational definitions based on
physiology, behaviour, and self-report measures.
Scientific Measurement: Reliability and
Validity
Once researchers have defined their terms, they then turn their attention
toward the tools they plan to use to measure their variable(s) of interest.
The behavioural measurements that psychologists make must be valid

and reliable. Validity  refers to the degree to which an instrument or
procedure actually measures what it claims to measure. As is the case with
operational definitions, creating a valid measurement may seem like a
simple task. In reality, developing valid measures of complex behaviours
is quite challenging. To go back to the depression example, researchers

cannot simply ask people a few questions and then randomly decide that
one score qualifies as depressed while another does not. Instead, for the
measure to be valid, a particular score would have to differentiate
depressed and non-depressed people in a way that accurately maps onto
how these people actually feel (i.e., a depressed person would score
differently than a non-depressed person). The creation of valid measures
is therefore quite time-consuming and requires a great deal of testing and
revising before the final product is ready for use.
In addition to being valid, a measurement tool must also be reliable. A
measure demonstrates reliability  when it provides consistent and stable
answers across multiple observations and points in time. There are actually a
number of different types of reliability that affect psychological research
(see Figure 2.2 ). Test-retest reliability examines whether scores on a

given measure of behaviour are consistent across test sessions. If your
scores on a test of depression vary widely each time you take the test,
then it is unlikely that your test is reliable. Alternate-forms reliability is a
bit more complicated. This form of reliability examines whether different
forms of the same test produce the same results. Why would you need
multiple forms of a test? In many situations, a person will be tested on
multiple occasions. For instance, individuals with brain damage might
have their memory tested soon after they arrive at the hospital and then
at one or more points during their rehabilitation. If you give these
individuals the exact same test, it is possible that any improvement is
simply due to practice. By having multiple versions of a test that produce

the same results (e.g., two equally difficult lists of words as stimuli for
memory tests), researchers and hospital workers can test individuals on
multiple occasions and know that their measurement tools are equivalent.
Figure 2.2 Test-Retest and Alternate-Forms Reliability
Test-retest reliability assumes that if the same test is taken at two or more
different times, the scores will be similar. Alternate-forms reliability
assumes that if a person completed different versions of the same test
(e.g., Version A and Version B), their scores would be similar.
A third type of reliability takes place when observers have to score or rate
a behaviour or response. For example, psychologists might be interested
in the effects of nonverbal behaviour when people interact, so they might

videotape participants solving a problem and then have trained raters
count the number of touches or the amount of eye contact that occurred
during the experiment. As another example, participants might write
down lengthy, open-ended responses to an experimenter’s questions;

these responses would then be rated on different variables by laboratory
personnel. The catch is that more than one person must do the rating;
otherwise it is impossible to determine if the responses were accurately

measured or if the results were due to the training, expertise, or
expectations of the single rater. Having more than one rater allows you to
have inter-rater reliability, meaning that the raters arrive at very similar
conclusions. If you design an experiment with clear operational

definitions and criteria for the raters, then it is likely that you will have
high inter-rater reliability.
Reliability and validity are essential components of scientific research. In

addition, it is usually very important that your results are not limited to a
small group of people in a single laboratory. Instead, it is ideal for these
results to relate to other groups and situations—in other words, to be

generalizable.
Generalizability of Results
Although personal testimony can be persuasive and (sometimes)
interesting, psychologists are primarily interested in understanding
behaviour in general. This involves examining trends and patterns that
will allow us to predict how most people will respond to different stimuli
and situations. Generalizability  refers to the degree to which one set of

results can be applied to other situations, individuals, or events. For example,
imagine that one person you know claimed that a memory-improvement
course helped them raise their grades. How useful is the course? Based on
this information, you might initially view the course favourably. However,
upon further reflection, you’d realize that a number of other factors could
have influenced your friend’s improvement, not the least of which is that
they are suddenly paying more attention to their grades! At this point,
you would wisely decide to wait until you’ve heard more about the course
before investing your hard-earned money. But, if you found out that
several hundred people in your city had taken the same course and had
experienced similar benefits, then these results will appear more likely to
predict what would happen if you or other people took the course. They
are generalizable.
As you can see from this example, one way to increase the possibility that
research results will generalize is to study a large group of participants.
By examining and reporting an average effect for that group,
psychologists can get a much better sense of how individuals are likely to
behave. But how large of a group is it possible to study? Ideally, it would

be best to study an entire population , the group that researchers want to
generalize about. In reality, the task of finding all population members,
persuading them to participate, and measuring their behaviour is
impossible in most cases. Instead, psychologists typically study a
sample , a select group of population members. Once the sample has been
studied, then the results may be generalized to the population as a whole.
It is important to note that the method used to select a sample greatly
influences whether your results are generalizable. If your sample for the
memory-improvement course was limited to middle-aged male doctors in

Edmonton, it would be difficult to generalize those results to all
Canadians. Instead, researchers try to use a random sample , a sampling
technique in which every individual of a population has an equal chance of
being included. If you wanted to study the population of students at your
school, for example, the best way to obtain a true random sample would
be to have a computer generate a list of names from the entire student
body. Your random sample—a subset of this population—would then be
identified, with each member of the population having an equal chance of
being selected regardless of class standing, gender, major, living situation,

and other factors. Of course, it isn’t always possible to use random
sampling. This is particularly true if you are hoping that your results
generalize to a large population or to all of humanity. In these cases,
researchers often have to settle for convenience samples , samples of

individuals who are the most readily available—for example, Introductory
Psychology students.
In a random sample, all members of a population (e.g., Winnipeggers)
would be equally likely to be selected to be part of a study. This type of
sampling is not always possible. Instead, many psychologists test their
hypotheses using a convenience sample, such as psychology students.
Ariel Skelley/Digital Vision//Getty Images
In addition to generalizing across individuals, psychological research

should generalize across time and location. Research should ideally have
high ecological validity , meaning that the results of a laboratory study can
be applied to or repeated in the natural environment. Sometimes this
connection doesn’t seem obvious, such as computer-based studies testing
your ability to pay attention to different stimuli on a computer screen, but

such seemingly artificial situations are assessing human abilities that are
used in very common situations such as driving or finding a friend in a

crowded classroom.
Although generalizability and ecological validity are important qualities
of good research, we need to be careful not to over-generalize. For

example, results from a convenience sample of university students might
not predict how a group of elderly people would do on the same task; it’s
simply not possible to know for sure until someone conducts research on
a sample from the older population.
Sources of Bias in Psychological Research
Of course, generalizability is only important if the experiment itself was
conducted without bias. While creating objective, reliable, and valid
measures is important in quality research, various types of bias can be
unintentionally introduced by the researchers; this is known as a
researcher bias. For instance, the experimenter may treat participants in

different experimental conditions differently, thus making it impossible to
know if any differences were due to the experimental manipulation being
tested or were instead due to the experimenter’s behaviour. It is also
possible for the participants, including animals, to introduce their own
bias; these effects are known as subject biases or participant biases.

Sometimes this bias will involve a participant trying to figure out what the
experimenters are testing or trying to predict the responses that the
researchers are hoping to find.
Bias can also be introduced by the act of observation itself. A wonderful

example of this tendency was provided by workers at the Western Electric
Company’s Hawthorne Works, a Chicago-area factory in the 1920s.
Researchers went to the factory to study the relationship between
productivity and working conditions. When the researchers introduced
some minor change in working conditions, such as an adjustment to the
lighting, the workers were more productive for a period of time. When
they changed another variable in a different study—such as having fewer
but longer breaks—productivity increased again. What was not obvious to
the researchers was that any change in factory conditions brought about
increased productivity, presumably because the changes were always
followed by close attention by the factory supervisors (Adair, 1984;
Parsons, 1974). The results were due to the participants noticing that they
were being observed rather than to the variables being manipulated. In
honour of these observations, a behaviour change that occurs as a result of
being observed is now known as the Hawthorne effect .
The Hawthorne Effect, named after the Western Electric Company’s

Hawthorne Works in Chicago, occurs when individuals change their
behaviour because they are being observed.
Hawthorne Works Museum of Morton College
In most psychological research, the participants are aware that they are
being observed. This presents a different form of problem, however.
Participants may respond in ways that increase the chances that they will be
viewed favourably by the experimenter and/or other participants, a tendency
known as social desirability (or socially desirable responding) . This
type of bias is particularly relevant when the study involves an interview

in which the researcher has face-to-face contact with the volunteers. As a
result, many researchers now collect data using computers; this allows
the participants to respond with relative anonymity, thereby reducing the
desire to appear likeable.
In these situations, the participants can look for feedback—intentional or

unintentional—and then adapt their responses to be consistent with what
they think is expected of them. The potential biasing effects of social

desirability show us a challenge faced by many psychologists: the need to
limit the effect that they have on the results of their own study so that the
results are due to the variables being studied rather than to the
participants responding to cues from the researcher. As you will read in
the next section, this challenge is not as simple as it appears.
In a related issue, participant anxiety about the experiment—which often

leads to changes in how people respond to questions—can be reduced if
researchers provide full information about how they will eventually use
the data. Many people assume that psychologists are “analyzing them”; in
fact, if you mention at your next family gathering that you’re taking a
psychology course, it is almost certain that someone will make a joke
about this. If volunteers know that the data will not be used to diagnose
psychiatric problems, affect their grades, or harm them in some other

way, then their concerns about the study will be less likely to affect their
performance.
Psych@
The Hospital: The Placebo Effect
The fact that demand characteristics can alter results is of

particular importance for researchers investigating new
treatments for different psychological or medical conditions.
Patients enter treatment programs (and experiments) with a

number of expectations, and these expectations can lead to a
placebo effect , a measurable and experienced improvement
in health or behaviour that cannot be attributable to a
medication or treatment. When researchers test the
effectiveness of a new drug, it is standard procedure for one

group of volunteers to be treated with the drug while a second
group is given an inactive substance (the placebo). Regardless
of the group, no volunteers are told whether they have received
the drug or the placebo. What sometimes happens is that

people in the placebo group report as much improvement as
the people who actually received the drug. This does not mean
the placebo magically turned into a drug, only that a
volunteer’s expectations about the drug affected their brain
and body. This effect is not limited to medications—it can be

found with other medical treatments as well.
Why do people receiving a placebo claim to feel better? The

initial explanation was that the patients’ expectations caused
them to simply convince themselves they feel better (i.e., it was
“all in their head”). Other research noted that many people who
are given a placebo show physiological evidence of relief from

pain and nausea (Hrobjartsson & Gotzsche, 2010). Recent
research suggests that both of these explanations have merit
(Geuter, Koban, & Wager, 2017). In brain imaging studies people
responding to placebos showed increased activity in several
regions of the frontal lobes—areas that are involved in
understanding the current context, establishing expectations,
and detecting changes. These results suggest that there are
multiple ways for placebos to affect our responses to pain.

Placebos are an important part of experimental research in
psychology and related fields, so it is important to recognize
their potential influence on how research participants respond.
Demand Characteristics and Participant

Behaviour
Results of psychological studies should provide uncontaminated
views of behaviour. In reality, however, people who participate in

psychological studies typically enter the research environment
with a curiosity about the subject of the study. Researchers need
to withhold as much detail as possible (while still being ethical)
to get the best, least biased results possible.
What do we know about how bias affects

research participants?
When studying human behaviour, a major concern is demand
characteristics , inadvertent cues given off by the experimenter or the
experimental context that provide information about how participants
are expected to behave. Early psychologists often thought of the
people being tested as subjects. This term, still commonly used,

assumes that individuals taking part in an experiment will follow
instructions (within reason) and will not put too much thought
into why certain stimuli are being presented or certain
experimental manipulations are occurring. This view changed in
the 1950s and 1960s when psychologists began applying the
scientific method to more cognitive topics. Researchers quickly
realized that people are active participants in psychological
experiments (Orne, 1962). These participants examine their

environment and attempt to understand why certain stimuli and
procedures are being used. As part of this attempt to “figure out”
the study, participants will look to the behaviour of other people
in that setting, including the experimenters. Sometimes, the
actions, tone of voice, body language, or facial expressions of the
experimenter can bias participants’ responses. These demand
characteristics can range from very subtle to obvious influences
on the behaviour of research participants (Orne, 1962).
How can science test the effects of demand

characteristics on behaviour?
Some classic examples of how demand characteristics can
influence results come from the research of Rosenthal and
colleagues. In one study, researchers told teachers in 18 different
classrooms that a group of children had an “unusual” potential for
learning, when in reality they were just a random selection of

students (Rosenthal & Jacobson, 1966). After eight months of
schooling, the children singled out as especially promising
showed significant gains not just in grades, but in intelligence test
scores, which are believed to be relatively stable. Why would this
occur if the students were randomly selected? The best

explanation is that the observers (i.e., teachers) assumed those
students would do well, and were therefore more likely to pay
attention to those students and to give them positive and

encouraging feedback. These positive experiences with the
teachers likely motivated these students to improve themselves.

In other words, the students changed their behaviour patterns in
order to match up with the expectations of the teachers. It is easy

to see how similar experimenter effects could occur in
psychological research studies.
Experimenter bias can even be found when people work with
animals. When research assistants were told they were handling

“bright” rats, it appeared that the animals learned significantly
faster than when the assistants were told they were handling
“dull” rats. Because it is unlikely that the rats were influenced by

demand characteristics—they were not trying to give the
researchers what they wanted—the most likely explanation for

this difference is that researchers made subtle changes in how
they treated the animals, and in how they observed and recorded
behaviour (Rosenthal & Fode, 1963).
How can we critically evaluate the issue of

bias in research?
This issue of bias in research is very difficult to overcome. Very
few researchers intentionally manipulate their participants to get
the exact responses they hope for; however, as you have read,
many times these influences are subtle and accidental. In most
cases, the individuals interacting with research participants are
student research assistants. To prevent unintentional bias, these

researchers complete rigorous training and follow careful scripts
during the actual experiment. These precautions help reduce

experimenter effects. Additionally, many studies include
interviews or questionnaires at the end of the study asking

participants what they thought the experiment was about. This
information can then be used by the experimenters to determine

if the data from that participant are due to the experimental
manipulation or to demand characteristics.
One way to evaluate whether participants’ expectations are
influencing the results is to create an additional manipulation in

which the researchers give different groups of participants
different expectations of the results. For example, researchers

could simply tell one group that “this exercise should have a big
effect” while telling a second group that “we have no idea if this
exercise even works.” Then, if the groups differ during or after

performing the same task, the participants’ beliefs about the
researchers’ expectations might be influencing performance. Of
course, it is not always practical to include an additional group in

a study, and, when doing clinical research, manipulating
expectations might not be ethical. But when researchers begin
performing research on new topics or with new research

methods, testing for demand characteristics would be a wise
decision.

Demand characteristics and other sources of bias all have the
potential to compromise research studies. Given the time, energy,
and monetary cost of conducting research, it is critical that results
are as free from contamination as possible. The science of

psychology involves the study of a number of very sensitive
topics; the results are often used to help policymakers make
better-informed decisions. Producing biased results will therefore
have negative effects upon society as a whole. Demand effects are

particularly problematic when studying clinical populations or
when performing experiments with different types of clinical
treatments. The results of these studies affect what we know
about different patient populations and how we can help them
recover from their different conditions. Biased results could

therefore affect the health care of vulnerable members of our
society.
Techniques That Reduce Bias
Subject and research biases threaten the validity and reliability of
psychological research. Therefore, experimenters have established a
number of techniques that can reduce the impact of subject and
researcher biases. One of the best techniques for reducing subject bias is
to provide anonymity and confidentiality to the volunteers. Anonymity

means that each individual’s responses are recorded without any name or
other personal information that could link a particular individual to
specific results. Confidentiality means that the results will be seen only by
the researcher. Ensuring anonymity and confidentiality are important
steps toward gathering honest responses from research participants.

Participants are much more likely to provide information about sensitive
issues like their sexual history, drug use, or emotional state if they can do
so confidentially and anonymously.
Placebos are also an important means of reducing bias. The critical

element of the placebo effect is that the participants believe the pill or
liquid they are consuming is actually a drug. If they knew that they were
receiving a placebo instead of a pain medication, they would not
experience any pain relief. Therefore, it is important that experiments
involving drugs (recreational or therapeutic) utilize what are known as
blind procedures. In a single-blind study , the participants do not know the
true purpose of the study, or else do not know which type of treatment they are
receiving (e.g., a placebo or a drug). In this case, the subjects are “blind” to
the purpose of the study. Of course, researchers can introduce bias as

well, especially if they believe a research participant is taking the actual
medication instead of a placebo. They might unintentionally interpret that
the symptoms are improving, or perhaps treat individuals in the two
conditions differently, thus biasing the results. This researcher bias is not
necessarily overt or intentional. In order to eliminate this possibility,
researchers often use a technique known as a double-blind study , a
study in which neither the participant nor the experimenter knows the exact
treatment for any individual. To carry out a double-blind procedure, the
researcher must arrange for an assistant to conduct the observations or, at
the very least, the researcher must not be told which type of treatment a
person is receiving until after the study is completed.
Double-blind procedures are also sometimes used when researchers are
testing groups that differ on variables such as personality characteristics
or subtle demographic factors such as sexual orientation. If the
experimenters know that participants have scored high on a test of
psychopathy, they might treat them differently than they treated a person
who scored low on the same test. Keeping the experimenter (and
participants) blind to these results allows the research to remain

objective. Therefore, researchers should use these techniques whenever
possible.
Sharing the Results
Once a group of researchers has designed and conducted an objective
experiment that is free of bias, it is important to communicate their
findings to other scientists. Psychology’s primary mode of communication
is through academic journals. Academic journals resemble magazines in
that they are usually soft-bound periodicals with a number of articles by

different authors (online formats are typically available as well). Unlike
magazines, however, journal articles represent primary research or
reviews of multiple studies on a single topic. When scientists complete a
piece of research, they may write a detailed description of the theory,
hypotheses, measures, and results and submit the article for possible
publication. You will not find journals or research books in your average
mall bookstore because they are too technical and specialized for the
general market (and are not exactly page-turners), but you will find
thousands of them in your university library and online.
However, only a fraction of the manuscripts submitted to journals
eventually get published. Rather, before research findings can be
published, they must go through peer review , a process in which papers
submitted for publication in scholarly journals are read and critiqued by experts
in the specific field of study. In the field of psychology, peer review involves
two main tasks. First, an editor receives the manuscript from the
researcher and determines whether it is appropriate subject matter for the
journal (e.g., an article on 17th-century Italian sculpture would not be
appropriate for publication in the Journal of Behavioral Neuroscience, which

is focused on biological explanations for behaviour). Second, the editor
sends copies of the manuscript to a select group of peer reviewers—peer
in this case refers to another professional working within the same field
of study. These reviewers critique the methods and results of the research
and make recommendations to the editor regarding the merits of the
research. In this process, the editors and reviewers serve as gatekeepers
for the discipline, which helps increase the likelihood that the research is
made public.
Replication
Once research findings have been published, it is then possible for other
researchers to build upon the knowledge that you have created; it is also
possible for researchers to double check whether or not your results
simply occurred by chance (which does happen). Science is an ongoing
and self-correcting process. The finest, most interesting published

research study can quickly become obsolete if it cannot be replicated.
Replication  is the process of repeating a study and finding a similar outcome
each time. As long as an experiment uses sufficiently objective
measurements and techniques, and if the original hypothesis was correct,
similar results should be achieved by later researchers who perform the

same types of studies.
Results are not always replicated in subsequent investigations, however.
Psychology, like many other scientific fields, is experiencing what the
media call a “replication crisis.” In 2015, the influential journal Science

published a paper describing the efforts of a group of researchers—known
as the Open Science Collaboration (OSC)—to replicate 100 studies that
had been published in three well-known journals (OSC, 2015). Although
the hope was that the vast majority of these studies would replicate, the
results showed the opposite. Depending upon the statistical cut-offs used,
only 36% to 47% of the studies were successfully replicated. This result
was quite upsetting for most psychologists, as it implied that our field has
some serious methodological problems. However, before assuming that
psychology should be tossed aside, it is worth thinking about this issue in

more detail. Psychology, like all sciences, experiences a publication bias in
which successful and novel results are published and studies that showed
no effects are not. Indeed, this bias is why replication is so important—it
helps us determine if these published studies are simply statistical flukes.
However, if a single replication attempt is unsuccessful, which result
should we believe—the original published experiment or the failed
attempt to replicate it? This dilemma was not only pointed out by critics
of the original OSC paper (Gilbert et al., 2016), but was noted by some of
the OSC researchers themselves. The solution appears to involve
performing the same study a number of times and across a number of

locations to see if it generally produces similar results. Such a strategy
was used by the Many Labs Project (MLP). (It is unclear why these
replication teams give themselves catchy “squad names.”) These
researchers performed the same studies over 30 times and found that 10
of the 13 studies they critiqued were replicable (Klein et al., 2014).
Perhaps if these replication efforts were applied to the Power Poses
described at the beginning of the chapter, researchers could have
identified the shortcomings of their research and developed more
recommendations or interventions to build assertiveness. Unfortunately,

it would be impossible to replicate every published study. Regardless,
these efforts send an important message to both researchers and

students: replication is important and makes science better.
Five Characteristics of Poor Research
In the preceding section, you read about the characteristics of quality

research. It is generally safe to assume that the opposite characteristics
detract from the quality of research. Good research uses valid, objective
measures; poor research uses measures that are less valid, less reliable,
and, therefore, less likely to be replicable. However, other issues must

also be scrutinized if you hear someone make a scientific-sounding claim.
Most claims are accompanied by what might sound like evidence, but
evidence can come in many forms. How can we differentiate between
weak and strong evidence? Poor evidence comes most often in one of five
varieties:
1. It produces untestable hypotheses.
2. It relies on anecdotes and personal experiences.
3. It includes a biased selection of data.
4. It makes appeals to authority rather than facts.
5. It makes appeals to common sense.

Untestable Hypotheses
Perhaps the most important characteristic of science is that its hypotheses
are testable. For a hypothesis to be testable, it must be falsifiable ,
meaning that the hypothesis is precise enough that it could be proven false. If a
hypothesis is not falsifiable, that means that there is no pattern of data
that could possibly prove that this view is wrong; instead, there is always
a way to reinterpret the results to make the hypothesis match the data. If
you cannot disconfirm a hypothesis, there is no point in testing it. This
fact is so ingrained in psychologists’ training that there are very few
examples of unfalsifiable hypotheses in modern psychology. However,
that does not mean they come easily; developing a sound, testable
hypothesis is at times very much like coming up with a solution to a
puzzle. In fact, some particularly challenging ideas have taken months or
even years to solve.
Examples of Falsifiability
A second characteristic of poor research is the use of anecdotal
evidence , an individual’s story or testimony about an observation or event
that is used to make a claim as evidence. For example, a personal testimonial
on a product’s web page might claim that a man used subliminal weight-
loss recordings to lose 20 kg in six months. But there is no way of
knowing whether the recordings were responsible for the person’s weight
loss; the outcome could have been due to any number of things, such as a
separate physical problem or changes in food intake and lifestyle that had
nothing to do with the subliminal messages. In fact, you do not even
know if the anecdote itself is true: The “before” and “after” photos could
easily have been doctored. Anecdotal evidence is also misused in
attempts to argue against sound research. For example, significant

research shows a link between corporal punishment during childhood
(e.g., parents relying on spanking to discipline children) and subsequent

psychological, substance abuse, and legal problems in adulthood. The
evidence is so strong that since 2012 the Canadian Medical Association

has been advocating that corporal punishment be legally banned
(Fletcher, 2012). One person claiming, “My parents spanked me and I
turned out fine” does not invalidate the research; there is still a
remarkable trend connecting corporal punishment to these undesirable
outcomes even if it does not work out that way for 100% of the
population. Therefore, we must be wary of such anecdotal claims. If they
are not backed up by a peer-reviewed scientific study, we should view the

claims with caution.
However, we still need to be careful even if a scientific claim is backed up

by published data. It is possible that some individuals—particularly
politicians and corporations—might present only the data that support

their views. A beautiful example of this data selection bias is shown in the
debate over whether human behaviour is a major cause of climate

change. A climate-change denier could point out that 24 peer-reviewed
scientific studies cast doubt on whether human behaviour is a cause of

global warming. Twenty-four sounds like a large body of research.
However, James Powell, a member of the U.S. National Science Board,

carefully examined all of the climate-change data from 1991 to 2012 and
found 13 926 papers supporting this view (see Figure 2.3 ). Therefore, a
very selective slice of the data would present one (biased) result, but a
thorough and scientific representation of the data would present an
entirely different view of the same issue.
Figure 2.3 Data Selection Bias

People with a particular political or economic agenda can still make
claims that appear scientific if they perform a biased selection of the
available data. Groups opposed to the idea that human activity is playing
a role in global warming often point to published research supporting
their view. However, when one examines all of the data on global
warming, it appears that negative findings make up less than 1% of the
results, suggesting that these individuals are full of hot air.
Source: 1991–2012 Pie Chart, retrieved from www.jamespowell.org. Reprinted with permission of
James Powell.
The fourth kind of questionable evidence is the appeal to authority —

the belief in an “expert’s” claim even when no supporting data or scientific
evidence is present. Expertise is not actually evidence; “expert” describes

the person making the claim, not the claim itself. It is entirely possible
that the expert is mistaken, dishonest, misquoted, or perhaps only an
expert in a tangentially related field. True experts are good at developing
evidence, so if a claim cites someone’s expertise as evidence, then you

should see whether the expert offers the corresponding data to support
the claim. It is not unusual for people to find that an expert’s claim
actually has no evidence backing it, but rather that it is simply an opinion.
It is also possible that that the experts have a hidden agenda or a conflict
of interest, such as when scientists funded by the oil industry produce
research that says human behaviour has no effect on the climate.
Finally, the evidence may consist of an appeal to common sense , a

claim that appears to be sound, but lacks supporting scientific evidence. For
example, many people throughout history assumed the world was the
stationary centre of the universe. The idea that the Earth could orbit the
sun at blinding speeds was deemed nonsense—the force generated would

seemingly cause all the people and objects to be flung into space!
In addition to common sense, beliefs can originate from other potentially
unreliable sources. For example, appeals to tradition (“We have always

done it this way!”) as well as their opposite, appeals to novelty (“It is the
latest thing!”), can lead people to believe the wrong things. Claims based
on common sense, tradition, or novelty may be worthy of consideration,
but whether something is true cannot be evaluated by these standards
alone. Instead, what we need is careful and objective testing. What we

need is science.
Module 2.1 Summary
2.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to the principles of

scientific research.
Review Module 2.1
2.1b Understand . . . the five characteristics of quality scientific

research.
These characteristics include that (1) measurements are objective, valid,
and reliable; (2) the research can be generalized; (3) it uses techniques
that reduce bias; (4) the findings are made public; and (5) the results can
be replicated. For example, objective, valid, and reliable measurements
make it possible for other scientists to test whether they could come up
with the same results if they followed the same procedures. Psychologists
typically study samples of individuals; their goal is usually to describe
principles that generalize to a broader population. Single- and double-
blind procedures are standard ways of reducing bias. Finally, the process
of publishing results is what allows scientists to share information,
evaluate hypotheses that have been confirmed or refuted, and, if needed,
replicate other researchers’ work.
2.1c Understand . . . how biases might influence the outcome of

a study.
Demand characteristics affect how participants respond in research
studies—understandably, they often attempt to portray themselves in a
positive light, even if that means not answering questions or behaving in
a fully truthful manner. Researchers can also influence the outcomes of
their own studies, even unintentionally.
2.1d Apply . . . the concepts of reliability and validity to

examples.
Try this activity to see how well you can apply these concepts.
Apply Activity
Read the following descriptions and determine whether each scenario
involves an issue with reliability or validity.
1. Dr. Williams is performing very standard physiological recording
techniques on human participants. Each morning he checks whether

the instruments are calibrated and ready for use. One day he
discovers that although the instruments are still measuring
physiological activity, their recordings are not as sensitive as on
previous testing days. Would this affect the reliability or validity of his
research? Explain.
2. Dr. Nielson uses a behavioural checklist to measure happiness in the

children she studies at an elementary school. Every time she and her
associates observe the children, they reach near-perfect agreement on

what they observed. Another group of psychologists observes the
same children in an attempt to identify which children are energetic
and which seem tired and lethargic. It turns out that the same
children whom Dr. Nielson identifies as happy, using her checklist,
are also the children whom the second group of psychologists identify
as energetic. It appears there may be a problem with Dr. Nielson’s measure
of happiness, or perhaps the other group’s measure of energy level. Do you

think it is a problem of reliability or validity? Explain.
2.1e Analyze . . . whether anecdotes, authority figures, and

common sense are reliably truthful sources of information.
To evaluate evidence, you should ask several questions. First, is someone
supplying anecdotal evidence? As convincing as a personal testimony

may be, anecdotal evidence is not sufficient for backing any claim that
can be scientifically tested. Second, is support for the claim based on the
words or endorsement of an authority figure? Endorsement by an
authority figure is not necessarily a bad thing, as someone who is an

authority at something should be able to back up the claim. But the
authority of the individual alone is not satisfactory, especially if data

gathered through good scientific methods do not support the claim.
Finally, common sense also has its place in daily life, but by itself is
insufficient as a final explanation for anything. Explanations based on
good scientific research should override those based on common sense.
Module 2.2 Scientific Research
Designs
Andersen Ross Photography Inc/DigitalVision/Getty Images

2.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to research designs.
2.2b Understand . . . what it means when variables are positively or
negatively correlated.
2.2c Understand . . . how experiments help demonstrate cause-and-
effect relationships.
2.2d Apply . . . the terms and concepts of experimental methods to
research examples.
2.2e Analyze . . . the pros and cons of descriptive, correlational, and

experimental research designs
Can your attitude affect your health? This is the old question of “mind
over matter,” and psychologist Rod Martin from Western University in
London, Ontario, thinks the answer is definitely yes. He says that if you
can laugh in the face of stress, your psychological and physical health
will benefit. Martin has found several interesting ways to build

evidence for this argument (Martin, 2002, 2007). For example, he
developed a self-report instrument that measures sense of humour.

People who score high on this measure—those who enjoy a good laugh
on a regular basis—appear to be healthier in a number of ways. As
interesting as this evidence is, it simply illustrates that humour and

health are related—there is no guarantee that one causes the other. To
make such a claim, researchers would have to use the experimental

method, one of the many research designs discussed in this module.
Psychologists always begin their research with a research question, such as

“What is the most effective way to study?”, “What causes us to feel
hungry?”, or “How does attitude affect health?” In most cases, they also
make a prediction about the outcome they expect—the hypothesis.
Psychologists then create a research design , a set of methods that allows a
hypothesis to be tested. Research designs influence how investigators (1)

organize the stimuli used to test the hypothesis, (2) make observations
and measurements, and (3) evaluate the results. Because several types of
designs are available, psychologists must choose the one that best
addresses the research question and that is most suitable to the subject of
their research. Before we examine different research designs, we should
quickly review the characteristics that all of them have in common.
Variables. A variable is a property of an object, organism, event, or
something else that can take on different values. How frequently you
laugh is a variable that could be measured and analyzed.
Operational definitions. Operational definitions are the details that

define exactly how the variable will be controlled or measured for a
specific study. For sense of humour, this definition might be “the

score on the Coping Humour Scale.”
Data. When scientists collect observations about the variables of

interest, the information they record is called data. For example, data
might consist of the collection of scores on the Coping Humour Scale
from each individual in the sample.
These characteristics of research designs are important regardless of the

design that is used. However, a number of other factors will guide the
researchers as they select the appropriate research design for their topic
of interest.
Descriptive Research
The beginning of any new line of research must involve descriptive data.
Descriptive research answers the question of “what” a phenomenon is; it
describes its characteristics. Once these observations have been
performed and the data examined, they can be used to inform more
sophisticated future studies that ask “why” and “how” that phenomenon
occurs.
These descriptions can be performed in different ways. Qualitative
research  involves examining an issue or behaviour without performing
numerical measurements of the variables. In psychology, qualitative research
often takes the form of interviews in which participants describe their

thoughts and feelings about particular events or experiences (Madill &
Gough, 2008). For example, researchers at St. Francis Xavier University in
Nova Scotia performed a qualitative study of how males and females
experienced “friends with benefits” relationships (Weaver et al., 2011). As
you likely know, “friends with benefits” refers to sexual activity that
occurs between partners who do not view the relationship as being
romantic. In this study, the researchers performed a semi-structured
interview with 16 female and 10 male students. Although the interview

contained six primary questions that would be asked over the course of
the meeting, the interviews varied widely from person to person, as each
individual had a different experience with their friends-with-benefits
relationship. In this case, the fact that the researchers weren’t restricted to
numerical data helped them answer their research question.

Quantitative research , on the other hand, involves examining an issue or
behaviour by using numerical measurements and/or statistics. The majority of
psychological studies are quantitative in nature. These designs can
involve complex manipulations (discussed later in this module); but, it is
also possible to perform more descriptive studies using numbers. For
instance, if you wanted to examine friends-with-benefits quantitatively,
you could conduct an interview or survey in which participants provided
specific responses to questions (e.g., “On a scale of 1 [sad] to 7 [happy],
how did you feel when your friends-with-benefits relationship ended?”).
Here are a few other examples of descriptive research questions:
How many words can the average two-year-old speak?
How many hours per week does the typical university student spend
on homework?
What proportion of the population will experience depression or an
anxiety disorder at some point in their lives?
As you can see, research questions can address the appearance of a

behaviour, its duration or frequency, its prevalence in a population, and
so on. To answer these questions, researchers usually gather data using

one or more of the following designs: case studies, naturalistic observation,
and surveys and questionnaires.

Case Studies
A case study  is an in-depth report about the details of a specific case. Rather
than developing a hypothesis and then objectively testing it on a number
of different individuals, scientists performing a case study describe an
individual’s history and behaviour in great detail. Of course, case studies
are not performed on just anyone. They are generally reserved for
individuals who have a very uncommon characteristic or have lived
through a very unusual experience.
Perhaps the most famous case study in psychology (and neuroscience) is
that of Phineas Gage (1823–1860). Gage was a foreman working for the
Rutland and Burlington Railroad Company in the northeastern U.S. state
of Vermont. On September 13, 1848, 25-year-old Gage was helping his
crew blast through a rocky outcrop near the town of Cavendish and was
involved in an accident that caused an iron rod to be propelled upwards
underneath Gage’s eye and through his head. According to the original
medical report of the incident (Harlow, 1848; available online for
interested readers), the iron rod was found 25 m away, suggesting that it
was travelling very quickly as it tore through Gage’s brain.
Amazingly, Gage survived the accident, although his physical recovery
took most of a year (Bigelow, 1850; Harlow, 1849). However, it quickly
became apparent that Gage’s injuries were not limited to physical
damage; his mental state had also been affected. Reports indicate that
while he had been a reputable citizen prior to the accident, afterward he

became much more impulsive, inconsiderate, indecisive, and impatient.
According to Harlow (1868), Gage’s friends claimed that the changes
were so pronounced that he “was no longer Gage.” The doctors treating
Gage rightfully concluded that these sudden changes were due to the
brain damage that he had suffered. Examination at the time of the
accident—which involved Dr. Harlow sticking his finger into the hole in
Gage’s head—suggested that this damage was located in the frontal lobes
of the brain, a region now known to be involved in a number of complex
behaviours including decision making and emotional regulation (see
Modules 8.2  and 11.4 ).
Interestingly, over the course of a few years, Gage slowly recovered
enough of his self-control to hold down different jobs, including one as a
long-distance stagecoach driver in South America (Macmillan, 2008).
However, he continued to have difficulties maintaining social
relationships. Had doctors paid more attention to this partial recovery, it
would have been one of the first reported cases of the brain's ability to
compensate and repair itself after injury.
Because Gage’s case was documented in a series of detailed case-study
reports, it was possible for future doctors and researchers to use this
information to gain a better understanding of the role of the frontal lobes
and the problems that emerge when this brain area is damaged.
Phineas Gage proudly holding the tamping iron that nearly killed him,
and that made him one of the most famous names in the history of
psychology and neuroscience.
Warren Anatomical Museum in the Francis A. Countway Library of Medicine. Gift of Jack and
Beverly Wilgus
Although case studies tell us a lot about an individual’s condition, is it

really science? Different researchers have different opinions about the
merit of such reports, with some viewing them as important scientific

contributions and others viewing them as simply interesting stories.
Of course, case studies are often limited to individuals with unique
conditions or experiences. They cannot be used to answer all types of

research questions. For instance, there are times when a researcher might
be interested in how groups of people or animals behave in environments

outside of the controlled laboratory setting or interview room. In these
situations, an entirely different form of descriptive research is necessary

to examine psychological behaviours.
Case Studies as a Form of Scientific Research
Case studies allow the clinician or researcher to present more
details about an individual than would be possible in a research

report involving a number of participants; however, this detail
comes at a price. Is a thorough description of a single individual
still a form of science or is it simply an example of anecdotal
evidence?
What do we know about using case studies

as a form of scientific research?
Case studies have been a form of psychological research for over
a century. Sigmund Freud (introduced in Module 1.2 ) used case
studies of unique patients when he initially described many of his

theories of personality and development. Case studies have also
been critical for our understanding of the brain. Phineas Gage
was just one of many unique neurological patients who have
taught us how different areas of the brain influence particular

behaviours. In each situation, the researchers described their
patient in great detail so the case study could improve the
treatment of similar patients in the future.
Case studies can also be useful in describing symptoms of

psychological disorders and providing detailed descriptions about
specific successes or failures in their treatment. One recently

published example of a case study did both (Elkins & Moore,
2011). The authors of this study described the experience of a
certain type of anxiety disorder and the steps used in therapy to
treat the anxiety over a 16-week period. They were able to
document how and when changes occurred and the effects of the
treatment on other aspects of the individual’s life. This level of
detail would not be available if the authors had not focused on a
single case. However, as case studies only describe a single
individual, there is no guarantee that the findings can be
generalized to other people and situations.
How can science test the usefulness of case

studies?
Although it is tempting to view case studies as simply being
descriptions of an individual, they can also serve another
important scientific function: They can be used to test an existing

hypothesis. For example, until a couple of years ago, researchers
thought that the amygdala—a fear centre in the brain—was
essential for emotional information to grab our attention (e.g.,
the way your attention is almost always drawn to a spider
walking across your ceiling). It made sense that a fear centre

would be a necessary part of a fear response. Brain-imaging
studies showed that this structure was active when these types of
images were displayed to healthy participants. But, what would

happen if someone with no amygdala on either side of their brain
was put in this situation? A case study with one such patient
(there are fewer than 300 worldwide) found that her attention
was still grabbed by emotional stimuli (Tsuchiya et al., 2009).

This told researchers that their models of how emotion and
attention work together were too simplistic, and forced them to

look at other brain structures that could be influencing these
processes. In other words, the case study was used not to

generate hypotheses, but to actually test an existing scientific
theory.
How can we critically evaluate the role of case

studies in research?
The previous section demonstrates that case studies can help
guide our understanding of existing scientific theories. Case
studies can also be used to help scientists form hypotheses for

future research studies. Take Phineas Gage, for example.
Although there are very few, if any, other reports of individuals

experiencing a tamping rod shooting through their frontal lobes,
patients who suffered damage to the frontal lobes after car

accidents and strokes have noted impairments similar to those
suffered by Gage. Specifically, these individuals became more

impulsive and risk-prone than they had been before their
accident (Bechara et al., 1994; Damasio, 1994). Researchers have
also created lesions similar to Phineas Gage’s in animal subjects

(e.g., laboratory rats) and observed similar tendencies (Quirk &
Beer, 2006).
Researchers can also use computer simulations to model the
effects of this form of brain damage. In one study—cheekily

entitled “Spiking Phineas Gage”—Brandon Wagar and Paul
Thagard (2004) of the University of Waterloo created a

computerized neural network that used both cognitive and
emotional information to produce simple decisions. After the

network “learned” the task, the researchers altered its parameters
so that the frontal lobe node of the network did not function
properly. As predicted, this network’s responses quickly became
more dependent upon emotional impulses, just like patients with

frontal-lobe damage such as Gage.

These studies demonstrate that case studies are not simply
anecdotes that scientists tell each other when they sit around the
campfire. The case study of a single patient who somehow

survived a terrifying brain injury has stimulated hundreds of
scientific research papers leading to improvements in our
understanding of how the brain works. Fittingly, such

information will be essential in the treatment of any modern-day
Phineas Gages. As you continue reading this text, you’ll be
introduced to a number of unique individuals whose stories have
informed and guided psychological science for over a century.

Without them, our understanding of topics ranging from vision to
memory to language to emotions would not be as sophisticated
as it has become. These topics would also lack the story-like
narratives that make psychology so compelling.
Naturalistic Observation
An alternative form of descriptive research is to observe people (or
animals) in their natural settings. When psychologists engage in such
naturalistic observations , they unobtrusively observe and record behaviour
as it occurs in the subject’s natural environment. The key word here is
unobtrusively; in other words, the individuals being observed shouldn’t

know that they are being observed. Otherwise, the mere act of
observation could change the participants’ behaviours (imagine how your
conversations with friends would change if you knew a psychologist was
listening and taking notes). Most students have seen television programs
about scientists in search of chimpanzees in a rain forest or driving a

Range Rover in pursuit of a herd of elephants. This certainly is a form of
observation, but there is more to it than just watching animals in the
wild. When a scientist conducts naturalistic observation research, they are
making systematic observations of specific variables according to
operational definitions. By having a very precise definition of what a

variable is and how it will be measured, researchers using naturalistic
observations can improve the reliability of their work. In other words,
they can ensure that their results are objective and that different people
observing the same environment would score the behaviours in the same
way (e.g., two observers would both call the same activity by a
chimpanzee a grooming behaviour).
Although it may appear that naturalistic observation is only useful for
animal studies or nature programs on TV, there have been a number of

interesting human-focused naturalistic observation studies conducted as
well. For example, a study conducted by psychologists at Carleton
University in Ottawa measured the behaviour of spectators at youth
hockey games (Bowker et al., 2009). These researchers were specifically
interested in the types of comments made by spectators—the intensity of
the remarks, who made them (male vs. female), and who they were
directed toward (players, other spectators, or everyone’s favourite target,
the referees), among other variables. They also examined whether the
observed trends changed depending upon whether the game was in a
highly competitive or a more recreational league. The researchers found

that females made more comments than males; these comments were
largely positive and directed toward the players. Males tended to make
more negative comments as well as directions on how to improve play
(e.g., “Skate faster!”). Both female and male spectators made more
negative comments when watching competitive, as opposed to
recreational, leagues; these comments were largely directed toward the
referees. Based on these observations, which involved five observers
attending 69 hockey games, the researchers concluded that the behaviour
of spectators is not as negative and unsettling as is often reported in the

media (Bowker et al., 2009).
Thus, naturalistic observations can occur anywhere that behaviours
occur, be it in “nature,” in a hockey rink, or even in a bar (Graham &

Wells, 2004). The key point is that the researchers must pay attention to
specific variables and use operational definitions. However, naturalistic

observations may not always provide researchers with the specific types
of information they are after. In these cases, researchers may need to

adopt a different research strategy in order to describe a given behaviour.
Surveys and Questionnaires
Another common method of descriptive research used by psychologists is
self-reporting , a method in which responses are provided directly by the
people who are being studied, typically through face-to-face interviews, phone
surveys, paper and pencil tests, and web-based questionnaires. These methods
allow researchers to assess attitudes, opinions, beliefs, and abilities.

Despite the range in topics and techniques, their common element is that
the individuals speak for themselves. Surveys and questionnaires are still
a method of observation, but the observations are provided by the people
who are being studied rather than by the psychologist.
Although this method initially sounds simple, the creation of objective
survey and questionnaire items is extremely challenging. Care must be
taken not to create biased questions that could affect the results one way
or another. If you’re interested in studying emotional sensitivity, you can’t
ask, “Given that men are drooling pigs, how likely are they to notice
when someone is unhappy?” Similarly, if you’re studying a subject that
some individuals might not want to openly discuss, it is important to
develop questions that touch on the issue without being too off-putting.
For example, asking people, “How depressed are you?” and giving them a
7-point scale might not work, as some respondents might not want to
state that they are depressed. But questionnaires can tap into the
symptoms of depression by asking questions about energy levels,
problems with sleeping, problems concentrating, and changes in their

mood. The researchers could then use the responses for these questions
to determine if a respondent was depressed.
This leads to an important question: How do researchers figure out if
their questions are valid? For clinical questionnaires, the researchers can
compare results to a participant’s clinical diagnosis. For questionnaires
examining other phenomena, researchers perform a large amount of
pretesting in order to calculate norms, or average patterns of data. Almost
all of the questionnaires that you will encounter as a psychology student
will have undergone prior testing to establish norms and to confirm that
the research tool is both valid and reliable. This testing will involve
hundreds or even thousands of participants; their efforts help ensure that
self-report measures such as questionnaires are a useful tool in
psychology’s quest to understand different behaviours.

Correlational Research
Psychologists performing descriptive research almost always record

information about more than one variable when they are collecting data.
In these situations, the researchers are engaged in correlational
research  measuring the degree of association between two or more variables.
For example, consider these two questions:
What is the average education level of Canadians over the age of 30?
What is the average income of Canadians over the age of 30?
These two questions ask for different types of information, but their
answers may be related. Is it likely that people with higher education

levels also tend to have higher income levels? By asking two or more
questions—perhaps through a survey—researchers can start to understand
the associations among variables.
Correlations can be visualized when presented in a graph called a
scatterplot, as shown in Figure 2.4 . In scatterplot (a), you can see the
data for education and income. Each dot represents one participant’s
data; when you enter dots for all of the participants, you may see a
pattern emerge. In this case, the dots show a pattern that slopes upward
and to the right, indicating that people with higher education levels tend
to have a higher average income. That correlation is not surprising, but it
illustrates one of the two main characteristics that describe correlations:

Figure 2.4 Correlations Are Depicted in Scatterplots
Here we see two variables that are positively correlated (a) and negatively
correlated (b). In the example of a zero correlation (c), there is no
relationship between the two variables.
Direction: The pattern of the data points on the scatterplot will vary
based on the relationship between the variables. If correlations are

positive (see Figure 2.4a ), it means that the two variables change
values in the same direction. So, if the value of one variable increases,
the value of the other variable also tends to increase, and if the value
of one variable decreases, the value of the other variable decreases.
For example, education levels and average income both tend to rise
and fall together, with educated people tending to be wealthier. In
contrast, if correlations are negative (see Figure 2.4b ), it means that
as the value of one variable increases, the value of the other variable
tends to decrease. For instance, if you get a lot of sleep, you are less
likely to be irritable; but, if you don’t get much sleep, then you will be
more likely to be irritable.
Magnitude (or strength): This refers to how closely the changes in one
variable are linked to changes in another variable (e.g., if variable A
goes up one unit, will variable B also go up one unit?). This

magnitude is described in terms of a mathematical measure called the
correlation coefficient. A correlation coefficient of zero means that
there is no relationship between the two variables (see Figure 2.4c ).
A coefficient of +1.0 means that there is a very strong positive
correlation between the variables (+1.0 is the most positive

correlation coefficient possible). A coefficient of −1.0 means that there
is a very strong negative correlation between the variables (−1.0 is the

most negative correlation coefficient possible). Importantly, +1.0 and
−1.0 coefficients have an equal magnitude or strength; however, they

have a different direction.
You will encounter many correlations in this text, and it will be important
to keep in mind the direction of the relationship—whether the variables
are positively or negatively associated. One key point to remember is that

the correlation coefficient is a measure of association only—it is not a
measure of causality. In other words, correlation does not equal causation.

This is an extremely important point!
In many cases, a correlation gives the impression that one variable causes
the other, but that relationship cannot be determined from correlational

research. For example, we noted in the beginning of the module that a
sense of humour is associated with good health—this is a positive

correlation. But this does not mean that humour is responsible for the good
health. Perhaps good health leads to a better sense of humour. Or
perhaps neither causes the other, but rather a third variable causes both
good health and good sense of humour. This possibility is known as the
third variable problem , the possibility that a third, unmeasured variable is
actually responsible for a well-established correlation between two variables.

Consider the negative correlation between sleep and irritability shown in
the scatterplot (b) of Figure 2.4 . Numerous third variables could account
for this relationship. Stress, depression, diet, and workload could cause
both increased irritability and lost sleep. As you can see, correlations
must be interpreted with caution.
Myths in Mind
Beware of Illusory Correlations
Chances are you have heard the following claims:
Crime and emergency room intakes suddenly increase when

there is a full moon.
Opposites attract.
Competitive basketball players (and even gamblers) get on a
“hot streak” where one success leads to the next.
Many common beliefs such as these are deeply ingrained in our

culture. They become even more widely accepted when they
are repeated frequently. It is difficult to argue with a hospital

nurse or police officer who swears that full-moon nights are the
busiest and craziest of all. The conventional, reserved, and
studious man who dates a carefree and spirited woman
confirms that opposites attract. And, after Kyle Lowry has hit a
few amazing jump shots for the Toronto Raptors, of course his
chances of success just get better and better as the game
wears on.
But do they? Each of these three scenarios is an example of
what are called illusory correlations —relationships that
really exist only in the mind, rather than in reality. It turns out
that well-designed studies have found no evidence that a full
moon leads to, or is even related to, bizarre or violent

behaviour (Lilienfeld & Arkowitz, 2009). People who are
attracted to each other are typically very similar (Buston &
Emlen, 2003). Also, although some games may be better than
others, overall the notion of a “hot streak” is not a reality in

basketball or in blackjack (Caruso et al., 2010; Gilovich et al.,
1985).
Why do these illusory correlations exist? Instances of them

come to mind easily and are more memorable than humdrum
examples of “normal” nights in emerg, perfectly matched
couples, and all of the times Kyle Lowry missed a shot, even in
his best games. However, just because examples are easy to
imagine, it does not mean that this is what typically occurs.
Contrary to popular belief, a full moon is statistically unrelated
to unusual events or increased emergency room visits.
Left: gary yim/Shutterstock; right: Florian Franke/Corbis

Experimental Research
Experimental designs improve on descriptive and correlational studies

because they are the only designs that can provide strong evidence for
cause-and-effect relationships. Like correlational research, experiments
have a minimum of two variables, but there are two key differences
between correlational research and experiments: the random assignment

of the participants and the researcher’s experimental control over the
variables being studied. As you will see, these unique features are what
make experimental designs so powerful.

The Experimental Method
Imagine you were conducting an experiment testing whether seeing
photographs of nature scenes would reduce people’s responses to
stressful events. You carefully created two sets of images—one of peaceful
images of the British Columbia rain forests, Lake Louise, Algonquin Park
in Ontario, and rugged Maritime coastlines—and another of neutral

images such as houses. When the first two participants arrive at the
laboratory for your study, one is wearing a t-shirt supporting a local
environmental organization and the other is wearing a t-shirt
emblazoned with an oil sands company logo. Which participant gets
assigned to the nature scene condition and which gets assigned to the
neutral condition? If you are conducting an objective, unbiased study, the
answer to this question is that either participant is equally likely to be
assigned to either condition. Indeed, a critical element of experiments is
random assignment , a technique for dividing samples into two or more
groups in which participants are equally likely to be placed in any condition of

the experiment. Random assignment allows us to assume the two groups
will be roughly equal (Figure 2.5 ).
Figure 2.5 Elements of an Experiment

If we assigned anyone who looked like they were nature lovers to the
nature scene condition, then our experiment might not be telling us about
the effects of the images. Instead, some other confounding variable —a
variable outside of the researcher’s control that might affect or provide an
alternative explanation for the results—could potentially enter the picture. In
our example, the variables of political awareness or tendency to be

“outdoorsy” might play an even larger role in the study than the stimuli
you worked so hard to create. Randomly assigning participants to the

different experimental conditions also allows the researcher to assume
that other sources of variability such as mood and personality are evenly
spread across the different conditions. This allows you to infer that any
differences between the two groups are because of the variable you are
testing.
In this experiment, we are manipulating one variable (the types of images
being viewed) and measuring another variable (stress response). The

variable that the experimenter manipulates to distinguish between two or more
groups is known as the independent variable . The participants cannot
alter these variables, as they are controlled by the researcher. In contrast,
the dependent variable  is the observation or measurement that is recorded
during the experiment and subsequently compared across all groups. The levels
of this variable are dependent upon the participants’ responses or
performance. In our example, the type of images being viewed is the

independent variable and the participants’ stress response is the
dependent variable.
This experiment is an example of a between-subjects design , an
experimental design in which we compare the performance of participants who

are in different groups. One of these groups, the experimental group , is
the group in the experiment that receives a treatment or the stimuli targeting a
specific behaviour, which in this specific example would be exposure to
nature scenes. The experimental group always receives the treatment. In

contrast, the control group  is the group that does not receive the treatment
or stimuli targeting a specific behaviour; this group therefore serves as a baseline

to which the experimental group is compared. In our example, the control
group would not be exposed to nature photographs. What if the

experimental group showed reduced stress compared to the control
group? Assuming that the experiment was well designed and all possible
confounds were accounted for, the researchers could conclude that the
independent variable—exposure to images of nature—is responsible for
the difference. A between-subjects design allows the researcher to

examine differences between groups; however, it is also open to criticism.
What if the two groups were different from each other simply by chance?
That would make it more difficult to detect any differences caused by
your independent variable. In order to reduce this possibility, researchers

often use within-subjects designs , an experimental design in which the
same participants respond to all types of stimuli or experience all experimental

conditions. In the experiment we’ve discussed in this section, a within-
subjects design would have involved participants viewing all of the
images from one condition (e.g., nature photographs) before being tested,
and then viewing all of the images from the other condition (e.g., neutral
photographs) before being tested again. In this case, the order of the
conditions would be randomly assigned for each participant.
As you can see, designing an experiment requires the experimenter to
make many decisions. However, in some cases, some of these decisions

are taken out of the researchers’ hands.
The Experimental Method

The Quasi-Experimental Method
Random assignment and manipulation of a variable are required for
experiments. They allow researchers to make the case that differences
between the groups originate from the independent variable. In some
cases, though, random assignment is not possible. Quasi-experimental
research  is a research technique in which the two or more groups that are
compared are selected based on predetermined characteristics, rather than
random assignment. For example, you will read about many studies in this
text that compare men and women. Obviously, in this case one cannot
flip a coin to randomly assign people to one group or the other. Also, if
you gather one sample of men and one sample of women, they could
differ in any number of ways that are not necessarily relevant to the
questions you are studying. As a result, all sorts of causes could account
for any differences that would appear: genetics, gender roles, family
history, and so on. Thus, quasi-experiments are essentially correlational;
they can point out relationships among pre-existing groups, but they
cannot determine what it is about those groups that leads to the
differences.
Converging Operations
An underlying theme of this module has been that each method of
studying behaviour has benefits as well as limitations (see Table 2.1 ).
For example, naturalistic observation research allows psychologists to see
behaviour as it normally occurs, but it makes experimental control very
difficult—some would argue impossible. Conversely, to achieve true

random assignment while controlling for any number of confounding
variables and outside influences, the situation may be made so artificial
that the results of an experiment do not apply to natural behaviour.
Luckily, psychologists do not have to settle on only one method of
studying behaviour. Most interesting topics have been studied using a

variety of possible designs, measures, and samples. In fact, when a
theory’s predictions hold up to dozens of tests using a variety of designs—
a perspective known as converging operations—we can be much more
confident of its accuracy, and are one step closer to understanding the
many mysteries of human (and animal) behaviour.
Table 2.1 Strengths and Limitations of Different Research Designs

Module 2.2 Summary
2.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to research designs.
Review Module 2.2
2.2b Understand . . . what it means when variables are positively

or negatively correlated.
When two or more variables are positively correlated, their relationship is

direct—they increase or decrease together. For example, income and
education level are positively correlated. Negatively correlated variables

are inversely related—as one increases, the other decreases. Substance
abuse may be inversely related to cognitive performance—higher levels of
substance abuse are often associated with lower cognitive functioning.
2.2c Understand . . . how experiments help demonstrate cause-

and-effect relationships.
Experiments rely on randomization and the manipulation of an
independent variable to show cause and effect. At the beginning of an
experiment, two or more groups are randomly assigned—a process that

helps ensure that the two groups are roughly equivalent. Then,
researchers manipulate an independent variable; perhaps they give one
group a drug and the other group a placebo. At the end of the study, if
one group turns out to be different, that difference is most likely due to
the effects of the independent variable.
2.2d Apply . . . the terms and concepts of experimental methods

to research examples.
Here are two examples for practice.
Apply Activity
Apply Activity
Applying Your Knowledge of Research Terms to Understand Research Designs
2.2e Analyze . . . the pros and cons of descriptive, correlational,
and experimental research designs.
Descriptive methods have many advantages, including observing
naturally occurring behaviour and providing detailed observations of

individuals. In addition, when correlational methods are used in
descriptive research, we can see how key variables are related.

Experimental methods can be used to test for cause-and-effect
relationships. One drawback is that laboratory experiments might not

generalize to real-world situations.
Module 2.3 Ethics in Psychological
Research
Bettmann/Getty Images
2.3a Know . . . the key terminology of research ethics.
2.3b Understand . . . the importance of reporting and storing data.

2.3c Understand . . . why animals are often used in scientific
research.
2.3d Apply . . . the ethical principles of scientific research to
examples.
2.3e Analyze . . . the role of using deception in psychological
research.
In the early 1950s, the United States’ Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)
became involved in the field of psychology. After hearing that their
enemies in the Soviet Union, China, and North Korea had tried to use
mind-control techniques—including mind-altering drugs—on U.S.
prisoners of war, the CIA felt it had no choice but to research these
techniques themselves. Project MKUltra began. After recruiting former
Nazi scientists who had studied torture and “brainwashing” during

World War II (and who had been prosecuted as war criminals), the CIA
secretly poured tens of millions of dollars into research laboratories at
hospitals and universities in order to study mind-control techniques
that would alter people’s personalities, memories, and ability to control
themselves while being interrogated. At least one of these institutions

was in Canada.
Scottish psychiatrist Donald Ewen Cameron used CIA funds (as well as
$500 000 from the Canadian government) to perform terrifying
experiments at the Allan Memorial Institute of McGill University from

1957 to 1964. Patients who were admitted to the institute for fairly
minor problems such as anxiety disorders or depression were—without

giving proper consent or being informed of the reason for the
“treatment”—subjected to manipulations that can only be called
torture. These patients received drugs that caused temporary paralysis

or even coma, electroconvulsive therapy set at more than 30 times the
recommended strength, constant noises, and even looped tapes

repeating messages (Klein, 2007). These treatments led to amnesia,
confusion, and anxiety; participants in these programs were never the
same (Collins, 1988).
Project MKUltra was officially ended in 1973. The experiments are now
generally accepted as being among the most unethical studies in the

history of science. In the 1980s, the Canadian government paid $100
000 to each of the 127 victims of Cameron’s unauthorized research

program. For several decades, the CIA’s interrogation manual referred
to “studies at McGill University” (McCoy, 2006).
The topics that psychologists study deal with living, sensing organisms,
which raises a number of ethical issues that must be addressed before any
study begins. These concerns include protecting the physical and mental
well-being of participants, obtaining consent from them, and ensuring

that their responses remain confidential. The procedures discussed in the
next section have been developed as protections for participants; they are
critical not only to ensure the individual well-being of the study
participants, but also to maintain a positive and trustworthy image of the

scientists who conduct research.
Promoting the Welfare of Research
Participants
The CIA mind-control research program certainly is an extreme case—
extreme in the harm done to the volunteers, the disregard for their well-
being, and its secretive nature. Today, most research with human
participants involves short-term, low-risk methods, and there are now
ethical guidelines and procedures for ensuring the safety and well-being
of all individuals involved in research. In Canada, all institutions that
engage in research with humans, including colleges and universities, are
required to have a research ethics board (REB) , a committee of
researchers and officials at an institution charged with the protection of human
research participants. (If you read a research report from an American

institution, they will refer to Institutional Review Boards [IRBs]; these are
the same thing as REBs.) REBs help ensure that researchers abide by the
ethical rules set out in the Tri-Council Policy Statement: Ethical Conduct for
Research Involving Humans (2nd edition), a set of requirements created by
the Government of Canada’s Panel of Research Ethics. The REBs are
intended to protect individuals in two main ways: (1) The committee

weighs potential risks to the volunteers against the possible benefits of
the research, and (2) it requires that volunteers agree to participate in the
research (i.e., they give informed consent).

Weighing the Risks and Benefits of
Research
The majority of psychological research, such as computer-based studies
of perception or questionnaires studying personality traits, involves
minimal exposure to physical or mental stress. Even so, great care is

taken to protect participants. Some research involves more risk, such as
exposing individuals to brief periods of stress, inducing a negative mood,
asking about sensitive topics, or even asking participants to engage in
brief periods of exercise. Some studies have even exposed humans to the
virus that causes the common cold, or made small cuts to the skin to
study factors that affect healing. The benefits that this type of research
provides in promoting health and well-being must be weighed against the
short-term risks to the people who consent to participate in these studies.
It must be stressed that physical risks are relatively less common in

psychological research as compared to cognitive and emotional stress. For
example, think about a volunteer who experienced recent trauma such as
the death of a loved one or a violent crime. They might be asked to
answer questions or write about that experience in great detail,
sometimes repeatedly. Engaging in that activity is likely to stir up
powerful and unpleasant emotions, so the researchers must put
safeguards in place to reduce that risk. This would include informing
potential volunteers before they begin the study, and allowing individuals
to withdraw from the research at any time they choose. Finally, once the
study is completed, researchers should make sure the participants are not
in significant distress and that they are able to access social support or
professional help if needed.
Another source of risk is related to the fact that some studies ask
participants to provide the experimenter with sensitive and/or personal
information. Think about all the topics in psychology that people might
want to keep to themselves: opinions about teachers or supervisors, a
history of substance abuse, criminal records, medical records, internet
search history, and so on. Disclosing this information is a potential threat
to a person’s reputation, friends, and family. Psychologists must find ways

to minimize these risks so that participants do not suffer any unintended
consequences of participating in psychological research.
Indeed, everyone involved in the research process—the researcher, the
REB, and the potential volunteer—must determine whether the study’s
inherent risks are worth what can potentially be learned if the research
goes forward. Consider again the stressors mentioned previously:
Research about trauma. Although revisiting a stressful experience can

be difficult, researchers learn how coping through expression can help
emotional adjustment and physical health. In fact, participants who

write about stress tend to be healthier—emotionally and physically—
than those who write about everyday topics (such as describing their
dorms or apartments).
Reporting sensitive, private information. Many individuals in recovery

from alcohol or drug addiction prefer to remain anonymous. However,
if they share their experiences in a confidential and anonymous way,

psychologists can learn about the common experiences that put
people at a higher risk for addiction.

These stressful situations have potential benefits that can be applied to
other people. The psychologists who undertake such research tend to be
motivated by several factors—including the desire to help others, the

drive to satisfy their intellectual curiosity, and even their own livelihood
and employment. The REB serves as a third party that weighs the risks
and benefits of research without being personally invested in the
outcome. Under today’s standards, there is no chance that the CIA mind-
control studies would have been initiated, except in secrecy outside of the
public process of science. The danger to the participants in that study—
victims might be a better term—far outweighed any scientific benefit

gained from the experiments, even if the participants had known what
they were getting into. Today, it is mandatory that research participants

be informed of any risks to which they may be exposed and willfully
volunteer to take part in a study.

Obtaining Informed Consent
In addition to weighing the risks versus the benefits of a study,
researchers must ensure that human volunteers truly are volunteers. This
may seem redundant, but it is actually a tricky issue. Recall that the
human subjects in the CIA mind-control studies were volunteers only in
the sense that they voluntarily sought treatment from the researchers. But
did they volunteer to undergo procedures that were very close to being
torture? Had the men and women known the true nature of the study, it is
doubtful that any would have continued to participate. Currently,
participants and patients have much more protection than they did in the
1950s and 1960s. Before any experimental procedures begin, all

participants must provide informed consent : A potential volunteer must
be informed (know the purpose, tasks, and risks involved in the study) and give
consent (agree to participate based on the information provided) without
pressure.
To be truly informed about the study, volunteers should be told, at
minimum, the following details (see also Figure 2.6 ):
the topic of the study
the nature of any stimuli to which they will be exposed (e.g., images,
sounds, smells)
the nature of any tasks they will complete (e.g., tests, puzzles)
the approximate duration of the study
any potential physical, psychological, or social risks involved

the steps that the researchers have taken to minimize those risks
Figure 2.6 Informed Consent
Research participants must provide informed consent before taking part

in any study. As shown here, the participant must be made aware of the
basic topic of the study as well as any possible risks.
Ethical practices often involve resolving conflicting interests, and in
psychological research the main conflict is between the need for informed
consent and the need for “blinded” volunteers. (Recall from Module 2.1 
that in the best experimental designs the participants are blinded—they do

not know exactly what the study is about, because such information may
lead to subject bias.) For example, a social psychologist might want to

observe unconscious mimicry—the tendency for people to take on the
gestures, postures, or other physical mannerisms of others during a

conversation. If participants knew this going into the study, they would
find it very difficult to behave naturally and would likely spend more time
aware of their body than the topic of conversation. In these cases,
researchers use deception —misleading or only partially informing
participants of the true topic or hypothesis under investigation. In

psychological research, this typically amounts to a “white lie” of sorts. The
participants are given enough information to evaluate their own risks. For
a study on nonconscious mimicry, there are no serious risks so the
researcher is likely to tell participants only that they are being asked to
engage in a conversation while being videotaped. In medical research
situations, however, deception can be much more serious. For example,
patients who are being tested with an experimental drug may be

randomly chosen to receive a placebo. Importantly, in both cases, the
deception is only short-term; once the experiment is over, the

participants are informed of the true nature of the study and why
deception was necessary. Additionally, if a treatment was found to be

effective for the experimental group, it will often be made available to
participants in the control group at the end of the experiment. This helps
to ensure that anyone who could benefit from the study does benefit from
the study.
Once participants are informed, they must also be able to give consent.
Again, meeting this standard is trickier than it sounds. To revisit the

mind-control studies, the patients were emotionally vulnerable people
seeking help from a noted psychiatrist (Dr. Cameron was the president of
both the Canadian and American Psychiatric Associations) at a world-
class university. They were not told of the treatments they would receive;
in some cases, the patients were not informed that they were part of a
study at all! Clearly, informed consent was not provided by these research
participants. Based on the ethical issues arising from this and many other
disturbing studies, modern psychological (and psychiatric and

neurological) research includes the following elements in determining
whether full consent is given:
Freedom to choose. Individuals should not be at risk for financial loss,
physical harm, or damage to their reputation if they choose not to
participate.
Equal opportunities. Volunteers should have choices. For example, if
the volunteers are introductory psychology students seeking course
credit, they must have non-research alternatives available to them for

credit should they choose not to participate in a study.
The right to withdraw. Volunteers should have the right to withdraw
from the study, at any time, without penalty. The right to give
informed consent stays with the participants throughout the entire

study.
The right to withhold responses. Volunteers responding to surveys or
interviews should not have to answer any question that they feel
uncomfortable answering.
Usually, these criteria are sufficient for ensuring full consent. Sometimes,
however, psychologists are interested in participants who cannot give
their consent that easily. If researchers are studying children or
individuals with mental disabilities, some severe psychiatric disorders, or

certain neurological conditions, then a third party must give consent on
behalf of the participant. This usually amounts to a parent or next-of-kin
and, of course, all the rules of informed consent still apply.
After participating in the research study, participants must undergo a full

debriefing , meaning that the researchers should explain the true nature of
the study, and especially the nature of and reason for any deception. Although
the debriefing of subjects might sound like some kind of military term, it
is actually a very important part of the scientific process. You’ve already

read how it is used when deception (or a placebo) is part of a study. But,
even in more straightforward experiments, debriefing is necessary to
ensure that the participants understand why their time and effort was
necessary. This results in the participants leaving the experiment better-

informed about your topic of study as well as about the many
considerations involved in creating a psychology experiment. In short, it
helps them become more scientifically literate.

The Right to Anonymity and Confidentiality
A final measure of protection involves anonymity and confidentiality.
Anonymity means that the data collected during a research study cannot
be connected to individual participants. In many cases, volunteers can
respond on a survey or through a computer-based experimental task
without recording their name. This setup is ideal because it reduces both
methodological problems (socially desirable responding) and the social
risks to participants. If pure anonymity is not possible—for example,
when a researcher must watch the participant perform a task—then
confidentiality is a reasonable substitute. Confidentiality includes at least
two parts. First, researchers cannot share specific data or observations

that can be connected with an individual. Second, all records must be
kept secure (for example, in a password-protected database or locked
filing cabinet) so that identities cannot be revealed unintentionally.
#Psych
Does Logging on to Facebook Equal Informed Consent?
In 2014, a group of social scientists reported the results of a
massive experiment conducted on nearly 700 000 Facebook
accounts (Kramer et al., 2014). The topic was emotional

contagion: the tendency for individuals to experience the same
emotions, to some degree, as the people around them. But
does this happen online? As a data scientist at Facebook,

Adam Kramer had both the technical ability and the company’s
permission to answer this question with an experiment. Over a
one-week period, his team manipulated the emotional content
of users’ news feeds. For one group, the frequency of
emotionally negative news stories and posts from friends were
reduced; for another, positive stories were reduced. Finally,

there were participants in control conditions that only
experienced random changes in posts. The researchers found
what they expected: after reduced exposure to negative
emotions among friends, users began to produce more positive
posts of their own. The reverse was true for the positive
condition. Although the researchers considered this
experiment a success, many Facebook users, consumer
advocates, and media scholars felt that it was a violation of
privacy—Facebook never informed the account holders that
they were going to be subjects in an experiment. In their paper,
Kramer et al. claimed that Facebook’s Data Use Policy counted

as informed consent. This claim presents a tricky ethical area:
Users do grant access to Facebook to collect data on their
browsing, posting, and reading habits. But this type of

permission is for marketing and product development research
—is it really the same as informed consent? Given that users

did not explicitly agree to research for scientific purposes, and
that they know they would be manipulated, many psychologists
would say no.

The Welfare of Animals in Research
Many people who have never taken a psychology course view psychology
as the study of human behaviour, possibly because most psychological
research does involve humans. But research with animals is just as
important to psychological science for a number of reasons. The simplest
and perhaps most obvious is that the study of psychology does include the
behaviour of animals. However, the most significant reason is that
scientists can administer treatments to animals that could never be
applied to humans, such as lesioning (damaging) specific areas of the
brain in order to examine the resulting behavioural impairments. In
addition, genetic research requires species with much shorter lifespans

than our own so that several successive generations can be observed.
Finally, scientists can manipulate the breeding of laboratory animals to
meet the needs of their experimental procedures. Selective breeding
allows researchers to study highly similar groups of subjects, which helps
control for individual differences based on genetic factors.
These forms of animal-based experimentation have improved our
understanding of a number of different areas of behaviour. The research
area that has benefited most from the use of animal subjects is the study
of different brain-related diseases. This leads to an ethical dilemma,
however: Is it ethically acceptable to create disease-like symptoms in
animals if it could lead to discoveries that could help thousands—or
sometimes millions—of people?

Many psychologists use animals in their research, so ethical codes have
been extended to cover many nonhuman species.
Mona Lisa Production/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source

Animal Models of Disease
MPTP (1-methyl-4-phenyl-1,2,3,6-tetrahydropyridine) was

accidentally discovered in 1976 by a 23-year-old chemistry
graduate student who was attempting to create MPPP, a synthetic
drug that produces morphine-like effects. Three days after
injecting himself with what he thought would be a pleasure-

inducing drug, he began to show symptoms of Parkinson’s
disease, including tremors and difficulties initiating movements.
Six years later, seven young people in Santa Clara County,
California, were diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, which
typically develops in older adults. Again, these individuals had

injected doses of MPPP that were contaminated with MPTP.
Based on these cases, neurologists realized that the compound
MPTP could prove useful as a model of Parkinson’s disease
(Langston et al., 1983). Animals receiving injections of MPTP
quickly develop Parkinsonian symptoms; it is therefore possible
to use these animals to test possible treatments of this disorder.
MPTP is now the toxin most frequently used for animal models of
Parkinson’s disease (Blesa et al., 2012). This leads to interesting
questions, however. Are animal models valid and useful tools for
researchers trying to find treatments and cures for diseases? Is
this process ethical?

What do we know about animal models of
diseases?
MPTP is just one of hundreds of techniques for modelling
different diseases. There are animal models for Alzheimer’s
disease, depression, schizophrenia, autism, stroke, Huntington’s
disease, epilepsy, and drug addiction, among many others
(Nestler & Hyman, 2010; Virdee et al., 2012). Not all diseases or
conditions can be modelled in the same way, however.
Depending upon the underlying cause of the disorder and the
brain areas that are likely involved, there are at least four
methods scientists can use to create an animal model. First, if a
disease is associated with a specific brain area, researchers could
anesthetize an animal and remove or damage that part of its
brain. Brain damage could also occur by introducing a toxic
substance, as occurred in the MPTP patients. Second, scientists
could introduce a substance that increased or decreased the
levels of certain brain chemicals known as neurotransmitters in
the brain (see Module 3.2 ). Parkinson’s disease is caused by a
loss of the neurotransmitter dopamine; therefore, a drug that

reduced dopamine levels could simulate the symptoms of
Parkinson’s. Third, researchers could create animal models of

certain disorders by altering the environments of the animals. For
instance, placing animals in an environment that is physically or

socially stressful can cause them to behave similarly to
individuals with anxiety disorders (Willner et al., 1987). Four,

scientists can manipulate the genetic make-up of animals. While
earlier research was limited to selectively breeding animals so

that they became more prone to a disease, it is now possible to
directly alter the genetic codes of animals so that particular traits
and physical structures are altered (Spires-Jones & Knafo, 2012).

However, despite the enormous possibilities associated with
animal models, these techniques are only as good as the
scientists who use them.
How can science test animal models

of diseases?
The primary goal of developing animal models of a neurological
condition, such as the MPTP model of Parkinson’s disease, is to
simulate the characteristics of a disease so that researchers can

test possible treatments without harming humans. Although this
may sound unethical at first, there is a logic behind the use of

animal models. In order to find treatments for a disease, scientists
need a very large number of individuals with the disease to use as

test subjects. Any given treatment that is currently available to
humans underwent testing with thousands—sometimes tens of

thousands—of animals in order to test different chemical
compounds and doses to ensure that the side effects of the
treatment did not outweigh its benefits. There are simply not
enough people with some diseases for this type of trial-and-error
testing to occur. Any study that could take place would require
the cooperation of universities and hospitals around the world.
And, if that single attempt did not work, it would be difficult to

find patients who had not already been tested to use in
subsequent treatment attempts. Therefore, the use of animal

models was a product of necessity.
Importantly, animal models are not developed in a random

fashion. Instead, each animal model of a disease must have the
following characteristics (Dzirasa & Covington III, 2012). First, it

must share the same physiological and behavioural features of
the disease as appear in humans. An animal model of depression

would not be accepted if the animals were energetic and playful;
instead, the animals’ behaviours must resemble the behaviours of
humans with depression. Second, both the animal model and the
“real” disorder must involve similar brain structures; otherwise,
researchers would be comparing apples and oranges. Third, the
tests used to measure the behaviours must be valid. For

depressed humans, laboratory tests often involve questionnaires
or computer-based tests; these are obviously not useful research
methods when testing rats or mice. Instead, the researcher must

use an indirect test to try to tap into the same underlying
symptom. For example, one symptom of depression is anhedonia,
the tendency to get less pleasure out of life than one previously
did. To test anhedonia in rats, scientists use a sucrose preference

test, a task in which rats have the opportunity to seek out a
pleasurable taste (sugar!) if they are motivated to do so. The
assumption is that “depressed” rats, just like depressed humans,
would be less likely to seek out such stimuli (Cryan et al., 2002).
How can we critically evaluate these models?

The easiest criticism of animal models of disease is that animal
brains are not human brains. Human brains are obviously more
complex; therefore, how valid is it to assume that treatments that
change an animal’s behaviour will benefit humans? And, if this
isn’t guaranteed, is it ethical to use animal subjects in this way? A
second criticism is that researchers are only beginning to
understand the specific brain areas involved with a number of

different conditions. Oftentimes, a large number of interacting
brain areas are involved with a disorder. So, if we are unclear of
the biology involved in the human version of the disease, how
accurate can the resulting animal models really be? Additionally,

it is fairly easy to test the validity of animal models of
neurological diseases that have clear, observable symptoms (e.g.,
Parkinson’s disease and epilepsy); animals modelling epilepsy
will have seizures that you can see. However, models of

psychological conditions like depression and schizophrenia
present a greater challenge, as the symptoms are often thought-
based and subjective. The rat can’t explain what he is seeing or
feeling. Instead, the researchers must infer that these mental

states are occurring (in one form or another) in the animal
subjects being tested. Finally, is an animal with limited cognitive
abilities even capable of serving as a model for a disorder that
involves impairments of higher-order cognitive abilities (Nestler
& Hyman, 2010)? For example, how can you tell if a laboratory
rat is having a hallucination?
These are all valid criticisms and highlight the importance of

meeting the conditions of a good model discussed in the previous
section. Our confidence in an animal model will also increase if
other lines of research produce similar results. So, if brain-
imaging tests in humans find problems in the same brain areas

being manipulated in an animal model, that model will become
more valid. Through the use of converging operations—using
multiple research methods to analyze the same question—it is
possible to create effective animal models.

Anyone who has watched an elderly relative become a shadow of
his or her former self as a result of a neurological disease such as

Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s disease can likely understand the
usefulness of animal models. It is impossible to perform large-
scale research investigating these disorders and their possible
treatment without the use of these experiments. Therefore, the

animals used in these studies are helping to reduce the suffering
of millions of people around the world. Whether you agree that it
is appropriate to use animals in this fashion is a personal decision
that you will have to make on your own. It is important to note
that the researchers who perform this type of research also think
about these issues. They certainly don’t take their ethical
responsibilities lightly; every university and research hospital has
extremely strict requirements for the treatment of laboratory
animals and the well-being of all animals is monitored by
laboratory technicians and veterinarians. Importantly, all of these
activities are closely monitored by the institution’s REB.

REBs for Animal-Based Research
Many ethical standards for animal research were developed at the same
time as those for human research. In fact, hospitals and universities have
established committees responsible for the ethical treatment of animals,
which are in some ways similar to REBs that monitor human research. To
be sure, there are differences in standards applied to human research and

animal research. For example, we obviously do not ask for informed
consent from animals. Nevertheless, similar procedures have been put in
place to ensure that risk and discomfort are managed in a humane way,
and that the pain or stress an animal may experience can be justified by
the potential scientific value of the research.
Three main areas of ethical treatment are emphasized by researchers and
animal welfare committees. The first is the basic care of laboratory
animals—that is, providing appropriate housing, feeding, and sanitation
for the species. The second is minimization of any pain or discomfort

experienced by the animals. Third, although it is rare for a study to require
discomfort, when it is necessary, the researchers must ensure that the
pain can be justified by the potential benefits of the research. The same
standards apply if animals are to be sacrificed for the research.

Ethical Collection, Storage, and
Reporting of Data
Ethical research does not end when the volunteers go home. Researchers
have continuing commitments to the participants, such as the
requirement to maintain the anonymity, confidentiality, and security of
the data. Once data are reported in a journal or at a conference, they
should be kept for a reasonable amount of time—generally, three to five

years is acceptable. The purpose of keeping data for a lengthy period
relates to the public nature of good research. Other researchers may
request access to the data to reinterpret it, or perhaps examine the data
before attempting to replicate the findings. It might seem as though the
confidentiality requirement conflicts with the need to make data public,

but this is not necessarily true. For example, if the data are anonymous,
then none of the participants will be affected if and when the data are
shared.
In addition to keeping data safe, scientists must be honest with their data.
Some researchers experience great external pressure to obtain certain

results. These pressures may relate to receiving tenure at a university;
gaining funding from a governmental, industrial, or nonprofit agency; or
providing evidence that a product (e.g., a medical treatment for
depression) is effective.
Unfortunately, cases of scientific misconduct sometimes arise when
individuals fabricate or manipulate their data to fit their desired results.

For instance, in 1998, British researcher Andrew Wakefield and his
colleagues published a paper in the highly influential medical journal The
Lancet describing a link between the vaccine for measles, mumps, and
rubella and the incidence rate of autism (Wakefield et al., 1998). The
response was immediate—many concerned parents stopped having their
children vaccinated out of fear that their kids would then develop autism.
Panic was increased by sensationalistic media reports of the study as well
as by an anti-vaccine media campaign launched by celebrity personality
(and, apparently, amateur developmental neurobiologist) Jenny
McCarthy. Vaccine rates plummeted; however, autism diagnoses have

more than doubled in North America (CDC, 2018). What also changed
were the incidence rates of the diseases the vaccines would have
prevented. Although measles had officially been eradicated in Canada in
1998 (Public Health Agency of Canada, 2018) and the United States in
2000 (CDC, n.d.), measles has made a significant comeback. Hundreds of
preventable cases have occurred—many resulting in hospitalization and
deaths—because children were not vaccinated.
Then something interesting happened: Numerous institutions in several

countries reported that they were unable to replicate Wakefield’s results.
As his data received more attention, it became clear that some of it had
been manipulated to fit his theory. Additional investigations uncovered
the fact that Wakefield planned to develop screening kits to test for
stomach problems associated with the vaccine; in other words, he had a
financial motivation for creating a controversy related to the vaccine.

Luckily, such cases of misconduct seem to be rare and, as occurred in this
instance, other scientists are likely to find that the study cannot be
replicated in such instances.
The chances of fraudulent data being published can also be decreased by

requiring researchers to acknowledge any potential conflicts of interest,
which might include personal financial gain from an institution or

company that funded the work. If you look at most published journal
articles, you will see a footnote indicating which agency or organization
provided the funds for the study. This annotation is not just a goodwill
gesture; it also informs the public when there is the potential for a
company or government agency to influence research. Incidentally, the

CIA was not mentioned in any published work resulting from the mind-
control studies discussed at the beginning of this module. Dr. Cameron’s

family destroyed all of his papers upon his death in 1967.
Module 2.3 Summary
2.3a Know . . . the key terminology of research ethics.
Review Module 2.3
2.3b Understand . . . the importance of reporting and storing

data.
Making data public allows scientific peers as well as the general public to
have access to the details of research studies. This information includes
details about participants, the procedures they experienced, and the

outcome of the study. Furthermore, the requirement that data be stored
allows fellow researchers to verify reports as well as to examine the study
for any possible misconduct. Fortunately, such cases are rare.
2.3c Understand . . . why animals are often used in scientific

research.
First, many research questions that affect medical and public health
cannot be answered without animal testing. Second, obvious ethical
considerations may not allow such research to be conducted on human

subjects. Third, by working with animal models, scientists can control
genetic and environmental variables that cannot be controlled with
humans.
2.3d Apply . . . the ethical principles of scientific research to

examples.
For practice, read the following two scenarios and identify why they may
fail to meet ethical standards.
Apply Activity: Is This Ethical?

2.3e Analyze . . . the role of using deception in psychological
research.
It is often the case that fully disclosing the purpose of a study before
people participate in it would render the results useless. Thus, specific

details of the study are not provided during informed consent (although
all potential risks are disclosed). When deception of any kind is used,
researchers must justify that the benefits of doing so outweigh the costs.
Module 2.4 A Statistical Primer
Image Source/Glow Images
2.4a Know . . . the key terminology of statistics.

2.4b Understand . . . how and why psychologists use significance
tests.
2.4c Apply . . . your knowledge to interpret the most frequently used
types of graphs.
2.4d Analyze . . . the choice of central tendency statistics based on the
shape of the distribution.
Imagine you are completing a multiple-choice exam when you get stuck
on one question. You’ve recorded your answer as C, but you have this
nagging feeling that maybe it should be A. Should you stick with your
original answer, or switch? The answer to this question is a judgment of
probability: How likely is it that you got it right the first time? The
human brain is in many ways a very effective probability machine.
However, the way we make predictions is illogical and imperfect. If you

are like most students, your intuition will tell you it’s probably best to
stick with your first choice (75% of students in one survey would agree
with you; Kruger et al., 2005). However, over 30 studies on this decision
say otherwise; you are much more likely to change from the wrong
answer to correct one (Liu et al., 2015). Why is our intuitive sense of
probability so far off? It’s likely that the emotion associated with
switching to the wrong answer is much stronger than the reverse. This,
in turn, makes it easier to remember instances in which you switched

and got the wrong answer. Because of the emotion and relative ease of
remembering examples, people greatly overestimate the chances of

being right the first time. This phenomenon, known as the availability
heuristic, will be addressed in Chapter 8 . In this module, however,

we’ll explore statistics—techniques that allow scientists to use their
observations to describe events, test their explanations for psychological

phenomena, and make predictions about the future. Certainly we can
do all of these things intuitively, but we have to acknowledge that

heuristics can often lead us astray. With this in mind, we can think of
statistics as a set of tools science uses to protect against our imperfect,
intuitively statistical brains.
Statistics initially seem scary to a lot of people. But they don’t have to be.
Statistics can be boiled down to two general steps. First, we need to

organize the numbers so that we can get a “big picture” view of the
results; this process is helped by the creation of tables or graphs. Second,

we want to test to see if any differences between groups or between
experimental conditions are meaningful. Once these steps have been

completed, it is possible to determine whether the data supported or
refuted our hypothesis. In order to keep statistics simple, this module is

organized around these two general steps.
Descriptive Statistics
Once research data have been collected, psychologists use descriptive

statistics , a set of techniques used to organize, summarize, and interpret data.
This gives you the “big picture” of the results. In most research, the
statistics used to describe and understand the data are of three types:
frequency, central tendency, and variability.

Frequency
Imagine that you asked a group of students who had just taken the
Graduate Record Exam (GRE), a standardized test taken by people who
want to go to graduate school, how well they did on the quantitative
reasoning section of the exam. Scores can range from 130 to 170, but
assuming they were honest, you would likely find the students’ scores
range from the 140s up to 160s—scores that are closer to average. What
you would want to know is (1) whether some scores occurred more often
than others and (2) whether all of the scores were clumped in the middle
or more evenly spaced across the whole range. These two pieces of
information make up the data’s distribution; the examination of the

distribution is a useful first step when analyzing data. Figure 2.7  depicts
these data in the form of a histogram, a type of bar graph. As with most bar
graphs, the vertical axis of this graph shows the frequency , the number
of observations that fall within a certain category or range of scores. These
graphs are generally very easy to interpret: The higher the bar, the more
scores that fall into the specific range. For example, if you look on the
horizontal axis in Figure 2.7 , you will see a column of test scores
corresponding to people who scored around 150 on the test. Looking
over to the vertical axis, you will see there were four individuals in that
range. It is usually easy to describe the distribution of scores from a
histogram. By examining changes in frequency across the horizontal axis
—basically by describing the heights of the bars—we can learn something
about the variable.

Figure 2.7 Graphing Psychological Data
The frequency of standardized test scores forming a normal curve.
Histograms are a nice and simple way to present data and are excellent
for providing researchers and students with an initial idea of what the
data look like. But they are not the only way to depict results of an
experiment. Sometimes it is easier to answer questions about the

distribution of the data if we present the same information using a
smooth line called a curve. Sometimes a distribution is a symmetrical

curve, as it is with our GRE scores. In this case, the left half is the mirror
image of the right half. This is known as a normal distribution 

(sometimes called the bell curve), a symmetrical distribution with values
clustered around a central, mean value.
Many variables wind up in a normal distribution, such as the scores on

most standardized tests. Other variables have what is known as a skewed
distribution, an asymmetrical distribution with a large cluster of scores on one

side and a long “tail” on the other (Figure 2.8 ). Imagine a class completes a
relatively simple quiz. In this case, you would expect most students to get
very high grades with only a few students (probably those who skipped
the assigned reading) getting mediocre or poor grades. This would most
likely produce a negatively skewed distribution—negative in the sense that
the “tail” creating the skew is less than the average. It would be unlikely
to find, a positively skewed distribution in which the tail extends out above
the average.
Figure 2.8 Skewed Distributions
Negatively skewed distributions have an extended tail to the left (as in

the left graph above). Positively skewed distributions have an extended
tail to the right (as in the right graph above).
Central Tendency
Based on what you have read so far, you have probably noticed that it is
useful to look at where the scores seem to cluster together. When we do
this, we are estimating central tendency , a measure of the central point of
a distribution. Although we naturally assume that the central tendency is
“the average,” there are actually three different measures of central

tendency used in psychology. The first measure is known as the mean ,
the arithmetic average of a set of numbers. This is the measure of central
tendency that we are most familiar with as it is used for class averages
and in most sports (e.g., batting average in baseball or goals-against
average in hockey). A second measure of central tendency is the

median , the 50th percentile—the point on the horizontal axis at which 50% of
all observations are lower, and 50% of all observations are higher. The third
and final measure of central tendency is the mode , which is the category
with the highest frequency (i.e., the category with the most observations).
At first glance, it might seem silly to have three different methods of
measuring the central tendency of your data. Indeed, when the data are
normally distributed as they are in Figure 2.9 , the mean, median, and
mode are identical. The mean is $30 000, which is exactly in the centre of
the histogram. The same can be said for the median; again, it is $30 000,
with half of the incomes less than $30 000 and half more than $30 000.
Likewise, the mode is the same as the mean and median—$30 000 has the
highest frequency, which, as seen in Figure 2.9 , is 3. So, if the three
measures of central tendency are equal, which do we use? If the data are
normally distributed, researchers generally use the mean. But if the data
are skewed in some way, then researchers need to think about which
measure is best. The measure used least is the mode. Because it provides
less information than the mean or the median, the mode is typically only
used when dealing with categories of data. For example, when you vote
for a candidate, the mode represents the candidate with the most votes,
and (in most cases) that person wins.
Figure 2.9 Central Tendency in Symmetrical Distributions
This symmetrical histogram shows the annual income of nine randomly

sampled households. Notice that the mean, median, and mode are all in
the same spot—this is a characteristic of normal distributions.
When the data are not a perfectly symmetrical curve, the mean, median,
and mode produce different values. If the histogram spreads out in one
direction—in Figure 2.10 , it is positively skewed—we are usually better
off calculating central tendency by using the median. This is because
extreme values (positive or negative) will have a large effect on the mean,
but will not affect the median. In other words, when you start to add
extremely wealthy households to the data set, the tail extends to the right
and the mean is pulled in that direction. The longer the tail, the more the
mean is pulled away from the centre of the curve. By comparison, the
median stays relatively stable, so it is a better choice for describing central
tendency when dealing with skewed data. For instance, Amazon.com
founder Jeff Bezos is considered by most to be the wealthiest person in

the world. He added US$24 billion to his net worth in 2018 (that’s $2000
per second) and has an estimated net worth of approximately $135 billion
(although his upcoming divorce will cut that number in half).. If you add
that figure to the list of nine incomes in Figure 2.10 , the mean annual
income becomes just over $13.5 billion. If you take the median of those
ten incomes, the central tendency is $30 000. Looking at those data,
which measure seems most consistent with the “big picture” of the
results?
Figure 2.10 Central Tendency in a Skewed Distribution

The mean is not always the ideal measure of central tendency. In this
example, the mode and the median are actually more indicative of how
much money most people make.
Variability
Measures of central tendency help us summarize a group of individual
cases with a single number by identifying a cluster of scores. However,
this information only tells us part of the story. As you can see in Figure
2.11 , scores can differ in terms of their variability , the degree to which
scores are dispersed in a distribution. In other words, some scores are quite
spread out while others are more clustered. High variability means that
there are a larger number of cases that are closer to the extreme ends of
the continuum for that set of data (e.g., a lot of excellent students and a
lot of poor students in a class). Low variability means that most of the
scores are similar (e.g., a class filled with “B” students). Variability can be
caused by measurement errors, imperfect measurement tools, differences
between participants in the study, or characteristics of participants on that
given day (e.g., mood, fatigue levels). All data sets have some variability.
But if information about variability is not provided by the researcher, it is
impossible to understand how well the measure of central tendency—the

single score representing the data—reflects the entire data set. Therefore,
whenever psychologists report data from their research, their measures of
central tendency are almost always accompanied by measures of
variability.
Figure 2.11 Visualizing Variability

Imagine that these curves show how two classes fared on a 20-point quiz.
Both classes averaged scores of 15 points. However, the students in one
class (depicted in red) scored much more similarly to one another
compared to students in another class (depicted in black), whose scores
showed greater variability. The class represented by the black line would
have a higher standard deviation.
One calculation that allows researchers to link central tendency and

variability is known as the standard deviation , a measure of variability
around the mean. Think of it as an estimate of the average distance from the
mean. A large standard deviation would indicate that there is a lot of

variability in the data and that the values are quite spread out from the
mean. A small standard deviation would indicate the opposite.
Standard deviations allow investigators to see how different scores relate

to the mean and to each other. Perhaps the best way to understand the
standard deviation is by working through an example. In a standard

intelligence test, there is a normal distribution (a bell curve) with a mean
of 100 and a standard deviation of 15 (see Module 9.1 ). Based on what
you’ve read in this module, you would infer that 100 is the mid-point of
the curve when these data are graphed. But how much of the data is
included in each standard deviation? As you can see in Figure 2.12 ,

researchers have found that approximately 68% of the data are located
within one standard deviation of the mean—34% above the mean

(between 100 and 115) and 34% below the mean (between 85 and 100).
This makes intuitive sense—we would expect a fairly large proportion of

the scores to be grouped near the average score. As we move farther
away from the average score, each standard deviation would make up
less and less of the data, because really high or really low scores are
relatively rare. So, the next standard deviation in our example makes up
roughly 27% of the data—13.5% of the scores would fall between 70 and
85 and 13.5% would fall between 115 and 130. When you add the two
standard deviations together, you can see that they include over 95% of
the IQ scores in the population. Therefore, when you hear about people
like the physicist Stephen Hawking, whose IQ was estimated to be

around 160, you can see that these are rare individuals indeed
(comprising less than one-tenth of a percent of the population).
Figure 2.12 Standard Deviations in a Normal Distribution

In a normal curve, most of the data are clustered within one standard
deviation of the mean. Over 95% of the data in a normal distribution are
found within two standard deviations of the mean.
This section of the module demonstrates that by making a graph and

reporting two numbers—the measure of central tendency and the
standard deviation—you can provide a “big picture” summary of your data

that almost anyone can understand. That’s Step 1 of statistics. Step 2 uses
these measures to test whether or not your hypothesis is supported by
your data—in other words, whether your project worked.
Hypothesis Testing: Evaluating the
Outcome of a Study
After researchers have described their data, the next step is to test
whether the data support their hypothesis. In order to do this, researchers
analyze data using a hypothesis test —a statistical method of evaluating
whether differences among groups are meaningful (a concept known as a
statistically significant difference), or could have been arrived at by chance

alone. What scientists are essentially trying to do is determine if their
experimental manipulation is the cause of any difference between groups
or between conditions. However, the ability to tease out these differences
is affected by the concepts discussed earlier in this module—specifically,
the measure of central tendency for the groups being measured as well as
the variability of data in each of the groups. The difference in the central
tendency for the two groups represents a “signal” that we are trying to
detect, similar to a voice in a loud room. The variability represents the
“noise,” the outside forces that are making it difficult to detect the signal.
To make this discussion more concrete, let’s use an example of a

behaviour that almost everyone performs: texting. Let’s say that we
wanted to test whether text messaging reduces feelings of loneliness in
first-year university students. For three days, randomly selected students
who regularly send text messages are assigned to one of two groups:
those who can text and those who cannot. After three days, the students
fill out a survey measuring how lonely they have felt. The diagram in
Figure 2.13  shows us the key elements of such an experiment.

Individuals are sampled from the population and randomly assigned to
either the experimental or control group. The independent variable
consists of the two groups, which includes texting or no texting. The
dependent variable is the outcome—in this case, loneliness (as measured
by a valid questionnaire), with larger scores indicating greater loneliness.
As you can see, the mean loneliness score of the group who could text
message is three points below the mean of the group who did not text
message (78 vs. 81, respectively). So, based on this information, are you
willing to say that texting causes people to feel less lonely? Or have we
left something out?
Figure 2.13 Testing a Simple Hypothesis
To conduct an experiment on whether texting reduces loneliness,

students would be randomly assigned to either text-messaging or no-text-
messaging groups. Their average scores on a loneliness scale would then
be compared.
What we do not know from the diagram is the variability of test scores.
On the one hand, it is quite possible that the scores of the two groups
look like the graphs on the left in Figure 2.14 . In that situation, the
means are three points apart and the standard deviation is very small, so
the curves have very little overlap. In this case, it is fairly easy to detect
differences between the groups; the “signal” is easy to pick out from the
“noise.” On the other hand, the scores of each group could have a broad
range and therefore look like the graphs on the right. In that case, the
group means are three points apart, but the groups overlap so much—the
standard deviations are very high—that they seem virtually identical. In

this case, the “noise”—the variability within each of the two groups—is so
large that it is difficult to detect the “signal,” the differences between the
two groups.
Figure 2.14 How Variability Affects Hypothesis Testing
(a) The means (represented by M) differ between the two groups, and
there is little overlap in the distribution of scores. When this occurs, the
groups are much more likely to be significantly different. (b) Even though
the means differ, there is much overlap between the distributions of
scores. It is unlikely that these two means would be significantly different.
How, then, would researchers know if the difference in scores is

meaningful? “Meaningful” seems like a vague term; as we have already
discussed, science requires precise definitions. In order to address this

problem, psychologists perform analyses that rely on the concept of
statistical significance.
A final point is that, although statistical significance tells us that results
are meaningful, there is still a possibility that the results were due to
chance. It is only through replication—having other laboratories repeat

the experiments and produce similar results—that we can become
confident that a difference is meaningful. Many scientists now make their
stimuli and data available to other researchers in order to encourage this
process. This move toward openness and replication is itself quite

significant.
Statistical Significance
Statistical significance  is a concept that implies that the means
of the groups are farther apart than you would expect them to be by
random chance alone. It was first proposed in 1925 by Ronald
Fisher, an English statistician working at an agricultural research
station east of London (in the U.K.). Statistical significance
quickly became a key component of research in many disciplines.

However, it has also been a source of some surprisingly intense
arguments (Cohen, 1994).
What do we know about statistical

significance?
Statistical significance testing is based on the researcher making
two hypotheses. The null hypothesis  assumes that any
differences between groups (or conditions) are due to chance. The
experimental hypothesis  assumes that any differences are due to a
variable controlled by the experimenter. The goal of researchers is to

find differences between groups that are so large that it is
virtually impossible for the null hypothesis to be true; in other
words, they are not due to chance. The probability of the results
being due to chance is known as a p-value. Lower p-values (e.g.,
p = 0.01 as opposed to p = 0.45) indicate a decreased likelihood
that your results were a fluke, and therefore an increased

likelihood that you had a great idea and designed a good
experiment.
So, how do we find the p-value? The specific formulas used for
these calculations will vary according to how the experiment is

set up. But they all involve a measure of central tendency (usually
the mean) and a measure of variability (usually the standard
deviation). These numbers are then used in statistical tests that
will produce a p-value.
What can science tell us about statistical

significance?
When Fisher first presented the idea of significance testing, he
noted that scientists needed to establish a fairly conservative
threshold for rejecting the null hypothesis (i.e., for deciding that
the results were significant). He correctly thought that if it were
quite easy for researchers to find a significant result, it would
increase the likelihood that results labelled as being significant
were actually due to chance. If enough of these false positives
occurred, then the entire idea of significance would soon become

meaningless. Fisher therefore recommended that researchers use
p < 0.05 as the cut-off point (this value was consistent with earlier
statistical techniques, so his decision was likely an attempt to
compromise with other statisticians; Stigler, 2008). If a p-value

were less than 0.05, then there was less than a 5% chance that the
results were due to chance. This p-value quickly became the

standard in a number of fields, including psychology.
Of course, just because a particular value is widely accepted does

not mean that scientists can stop using their critical thinking
skills. Sometimes the consequences of having a false positive are

quite severe, as in the case of testing new medicines for a disease.
It would be tragic to make claims about a wonder drug only to

find out that the results were due to a chance result that could
not be reproduced. In such cases, researchers sometimes use an
even more conservative p-value, such as requiring results to be

less than 0.01 (i.e., p < 0.01).
It is also worth noting that when testing small sample sizes, it is

difficult for the results to reach significance. But some types of
research, such as studies of rare brain-damaged patients, have a

limited number of potential participants. It therefore becomes
more difficult to detect statistically significant differences in these

studies despite the fact that the groups do appear to differ when
you look at graphs of the data (Bezeau & Graves, 2001). In these
cases, significance testing might not be the best statistical tool for
analyzing the data. Luckily, significance testing is not the only

technique available.
Can we critically evaluate the use of statistical

significance testing in research?
Although significance testing has been a potent tool for
researchers in the social sciences for almost a century, it does
have some detractors. American psychologist Paul Meehl (1967)
subtly described significance testing as “a potent but sterile

intellectual rake who leaves in his merry path a long train of
ravished maidens but no viable scientific offspring” (p. 265).

Although this description may be a touch dramatic, there are at
least two concerns related to significance testing. The first is the

problem of multiple comparisons. If a “fluke” result can occur
approximately 5% of the time, the more tests you perform for

your experiment, the greater the likelihood that one of them is
due to chance. In order to cope with this problem, researchers

generally use a stricter acceptable p-value; as the number of
comparisons increases, researchers decrease the p-value (i.e.,
make it more conservative). This makes it more difficult to

produce significant results, but does help ensure that the results
are not due to chance. A second problem is the fact that as you
increase the number of participants in your study, it becomes

easier to find significant effects. At first blush, this doesn’t seem
like a valid concern. Having more participants means that you are
sampling a larger portion of the population of interest. Isn’t that a

good thing? The answer is yes, of course it is. But if you sample
thousands of people—as often happens in medical studies
tracking potential lifestyle causes of diseases—extremely small
differences will still be statistically significant. The media

provides almost daily reports of different foods increasing or
decreasing the risk of particular diseases. Before totally altering
your lifestyle, it is best to look up the original report to see if the
difference was large, or was simply due to the fact that the
sample size was in the thousands.
As an alternative to significance testing, Jacob Cohen (1988)

developed techniques that shift the attention to a concept he
called effect sizes. Rather than saying that a difference is
statistically significant, which is essentially a yes–no decision,
effect sizes tell the researcher whether the difference is
statistically small or large. So, instead of an experiment

supporting or disproving a theory, effect sizes allow the
researcher to adjust how much they believe that their hypothesis
is true (Cohen, 1994).

Statistical significance gives psychology researchers a useful
standard for deciding if the differences between groups (or
experimental conditions) are meaningful. Having established

criteria for deciding if an effect is significant is important, because
it means that all researchers are using standardized tools. If
different research groups were using different criteria for
deciding that effects were “real,” then it would be nearly
impossible for that research area to move forward—people would
be speaking different languages. Significance testing makes sure

that everyone is on the same page, statistically speaking.
However, effect sizes are becoming commonplace as most
academic journals now require researchers to report both
statistical significance and effect sizes, thus giving readers an
even more detailed picture of the data.

Module 2.4 Summary
2.4a Know . . . the key terminology of statistics.
Review Module 2.4
2.4b Understand . . . how and why psychologists use

significance tests.
Significance tests are statistics that tell us whether differences between

groups or distributions are meaningful. For example, the averages of two
groups being compared may be very different. However, how much

variability there is among individuals within each of the groups will
determine whether the averages are significantly different. In some cases,
the averages of the two groups may be different, yet not statistically
different because the groups overlap so much. This possibility explains
why psychologists use significance tests—to test whether groups really are
different from one another.
2.4c Apply . . . your knowledge to interpret the most frequently

used types of graphs.
Take a look at Figure 2.15 , a histogram showing the grades from a quiz
in a statistics course, and then answer the questions that follow.
Figure 2.15 Apply Activity
Applying Your Knowledge

2.4d Analyze . . . the choice of central tendency statistics based
on the shape of the distribution.
Although the mean is the most commonly used measure of central
tendency, it is not always the best method for describing a set of data. For
example, incomes are positively skewed. Suppose one politician claims
the mean income level is $40 000, while the other claims that the median
income level is $25 000. Which politician is giving the more
representative measure? It would seem that the median would be a more
representative statistic because it is not overly influenced by extremely

high scores.
Chapter 3
Biological Psychology
3.1 Genetic and Evolutionary Perspectives on Behaviour
Heredity and Behaviour
Evolutionary Insights into Human Behaviour
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Hunters and Gatherers:
Men, Women, and Spatial Memory
Module 3.1 Summary
3.2 How the Nervous System Works: Cells and Neurotransmitters

Neural Communication
The Chemical Messengers: Neurotransmitters and Hormones
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Testosterone and
Aggression
Module 3.2 Summary
3.3 Structure and Organization of the Nervous System
Divisions of the Nervous System
The Brain and Its Structures
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Neuroplasticity and
Recovery from Brain Injury

Module 3.3 Summary
3.4 Windows to the Brain: Measuring and Observing Brain Activity
Insights from Brain Damage
Structural and Functional Neuroimaging
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Functional MRI and
Behaviour
Module 3.4 Summary

Module 3.1 Genetic and
Evolutionary Perspectives on
Behaviour

Vitstudio/Shutterstock
3.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to genes, heredity, and
evolutionary psychology.
3.1b Understand . . . how twin and adoption studies reveal
relationships between genes and behaviour.
3.1c Apply . . . your knowledge of genes and behaviour to

hypothesize why a trait might be adaptive.
3.1d Analyze . . . claims that scientists have located a specific gene
that controls a single trait or behaviour.
3.1e Analyze . . . explanations for cognitive gender differences that
are rooted in genetics.
In November 2018, a Chinese researcher named He Jiankui shocked the
scientific world when he announced that he had edited the genes of

several human embryos in his laboratory. Each of these embryos were
from families in which the father was HIV positive. He and his
colleagues altered copies of gene CCR5 in order to increase the embryos’

resistance to HIV. Using invitro fertilization, these embryos could then
be implanted into the mother and could develop into viable offspring. In
fact, He reported, genetically engineered twin girls, named Nana and
Lulu, had already been born. The announcement brought immediate

and widespread condemnation from politicians and scientists
throughout the world (Cohen, 2018; Normille, 2018). The idea of

altering the genetic material of human embryos appeared to cross a very
important ethical line. Until that time, genetic studies primarily used
simple organisms like fruit flies, with some labs using more complex
organisms such as rats. Humans were off-limits. But should they be?
He Jiankui defended his actions, stating that he was acting ethically by

improving the lives of children. His genetical manipulations would
make them HIV resistant and would therefore prevent the children from
experiencing any medical consquences or the stigma associated with
HIV and AIDS (Cohen, 2018). However, altering an embryo’s genetics

is as complicated ethically as it is scientifically. One ethical issue is that
we can’t predict whether Nana and Lulu will suffer any unexpected side
effects from the procedure—side effects that could include being more
susceptible to other dangerous illnesses.
He’s research leads us to another ethical issue: should gene editing
should be used to enhance characteristics such as intelligence,

athleticism, or appearance. Would these procedures be available to
everyone or just to the very wealthy? As you can see, the world of
genetics—the building blocks of our body and brain—is a scientifically
and ethically complex one. In this module, we will examine how these
genetic building blocks are related to human behaviour.
A question that underlies a great deal of psychological inquiry is “Why do

we behave the way we do?” In some situations, you might be tempted to
say that your behaviour was a reaction to someone else or to the situation
that you were in. In others, you might say that you interpreted a situation
in a particular way, and that led to a particular response. You might also
say that you just reacted “naturally,” which implies that your behaviour is
sometimes hard-wired. According to the biopsychosocial model of
psychology, all three explanations can be valid in some situations.

Therefore, to fully understand why you behave the way you do, it is
necessary to understand the forces that influence each of these factors

that affect our behaviour. In this module, we will focus on genetic and
evolutionary explanations; however, it is important to remember that

almost everything you do—or anyone else does—is due to biological,
cognitive (psychological), and social factors.
Heredity and Behaviour
Examples of genetic influences on physical traits easily come to mind

because we tend to share our eye colour, facial characteristics, stature,
and skin colouration with our parents. But research has made it clear that
behaviours are also influenced by genes; indeed, the two are often
related. Genetics has an influence on the brain, just as it has an influence

on eye colour, and changes in brain functions lead to changes in
behaviour. Therefore, although a discussion of genetics may seem
unrelated to how you think or feel, the work of genes—both during
development and during everyday life—has a dramatic effect on your
behaviour.
The Genetic Code
Given that genetics can influence so many aspects of our lives, it is
important to review some of this field’s basic concepts. Our genetic code
isn’t hidden in the darkest corners of our brains. Instead, it is found in the
nucleus of most of the billions of cells in the human body. This genetic
material is organized into genes , the basic units of heredity; genes are
responsible for guiding the process of creating the proteins that make up our
physical structures and regulate development and physiological processes
throughout the lifespan.
Genes are composed of segments of DNA (deoxyribonucleic acid) , a

molecule formed in a double-helix shape that contains four nucleotides: adenine,
cytosine, guanine, and thymine (see Figure 3.1 ). These nucleotides are
typically abbreviated using the first letter of their names—A, C, G, and T.
Each gene is a unique combination of these four nucleotides. For
example, a gene may consist of sequences of nucleotides such as

AGCCTAATCGATGCGCCA . . . and so on. These sequences of
nucleotides (i.e., these genes) represent the instructions or code used to
create the thousands of proteins found in the human body. These
proteins specify which types of molecules to produce and when to
produce them. Genes also contain information about which
environmental factors might influence whether the genes become active
(gene activation is commonly referred to as expression). Together, this
information makes up an individual’s genotype , the genetic makeup of an
organism—the unique set of genes that comprise that individual’s genetic code.
The result is an organism’s phenotype , the physical traits and behavioural
characteristics that show genetic variation, such as eye colour, the shape and
size of facial features, intelligence, and even personality. This phenotype
develops because of differences in the nucleotide sequencing of A, C, G,
and T, as well as through interactions with the environment.
Although the idea that genes are composed of segments of DNA seems
simple enough, we still need to think about how all of our approximately
20 000 to 25 000 genes are organized. All of the cells in our body contain
23 pairs of chromosomes , structures in the cellular nucleus that are lined

with all of the genes an individual inherits (Figure 3.2 ). Each pair of
chromosomes contains one chromosome inherited from the mother and
one from the father. Our genes are dispersed across these 23 pairs of
chromosomes; so, a gene related to eye colour might be found on one
chromosome while genes related to hair colour might be found on a
different chromosome. The same genes (e.g., CCR5) are found on both
the chromosomes inherited from the mother and the chromosomes
inherited from the father. However, some genes can have more than one
form. For example, a gene might have a long form or a short form.
Therefore, it is possible that an individual could inherit two identical
versions of a gene (e.g., two short forms) or two different versions (e.g., a
short form and a long form).
Figure 3.1, Figure 3.2 Chromosomes and the DNA Molecule

Source: Lilienfeld, Scott O.; Lynn, Steven J; Namy, Laura L.; Woolf, Nancy J., Psychology: From
Inquiry To Understanding, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted And Electronically Reproduced By Permission
Of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
If two corresponding genes at a given location on a pair of chromosomes are the
same, they are referred to as homozygous . If two corresponding genes at a

given location on a pair of chromosomes differ, they are heterozygous .
Whether a trait is expressed depends on which combination of pairs is

inherited. In order to make these abstract concepts more concrete, let’s
look at an example that affects everyone: our sense of taste. Researchers

have shown that the ability to taste a very bitter substance called
phenylthiocarbamide (PTC) is based on which combination of genes we
inherit from either parent (the genotype; see Figure 3.3 ). The test for
whether you can taste PTC (the phenotype) is typically performed by
placing a small tab of paper soaked in the substance on the tongue. Some
people are “tasters”; they cringe at the bitter taste of PTC. Others—the
“non-tasters”—cannot taste anything other than the tab of paper. Those

who are tasters inherited at least one copy of the dominant gene for
tasting (abbreviated capital “T”) from either parent. People can also
inherit a recessive copy of this gene (t). Those who report tasting PTC are
either homozygous dominant (TT) or heterozygous (Tt). Non-tasters are

homozygous recessive (tt)—they inherited a recessive copy of the gene
from both parents. Those who are tasters may find foods such as Brussels
sprouts, cauliflower, and cabbage to be unpleasant, or at least too bitter

to eat, as these foods contain PTC.
Figure 3.3 Genetic Inheritance
Source: Data from Influence of life stress on depression: Moderation by a polymorphism in the 5-
HTT gene by Caspi, A., et al., Science, 301, 386–389. 2003.
In this example, the genotype represents what was inherited (i.e., tt, Tt,
or TT). The phenotype represents the physical and behavioural

manifestation of that genotype that occurs through interactions with the
environment (i.e., being a taster or a non-taster for this specific sensation
—note that non-tasters in this context might have normal responses to
other tastes). As you will see, this attempt to link genes to behaviour is a
rapidly growing area of research in psychology and medicine.
As geneticists continue to unravel different parts of the entire human

genome, it is becoming increasingly clear that simple examples like the
taster/non-taster trait provide only a glimpse of what knowledge might
soon be available to us. Indeed, in recent years, an entirely new field has
developed that attempts to identify the genes involved with specific
behaviours: behavioural genomics.
Behavioural Genomics: The Molecular
Approach
Although researchers have suggested that genetics play a role in many
abilities and behaviours, until recently it has not been possible to
determine how traits are inherited. To make this determination,

researchers now go straight to the source of genetic influence—to the
genes themselves. Behavioural genomics  is the study of DNA and the
ways in which specific genes are related to behaviour. The technology
supporting behavioural genomics is relatively new, but once it became
available, researchers initiated the Human Genome Project , a massive

effort to identify the components of the entire human genome. This project,
which was completed in 2003, resulted in the identification of
approximately 22 300 genes, although the exact number is still up for
debate (Pertea & Salzburg, 2010). Imagine the undertaking: determining
the sequences of the billions of A, C, G, and T nucleotides making up the

genes, including where each gene begins and ends, and how they are all
arranged on the chromosomes. The Human Genome Project itself did not
directly provide a cure for a disease or an understanding of any particular
behaviour. Instead, it has led to an abundance of new techniques and
information about where genes are located, and it opened the door for an
entirely new era of research (Plomin & Crabbe, 2000). Indeed,
researchers can now compare the genotypes of different groups of people
(e.g., depressed and non-depressed individuals) to look for differences
that might shed light on the cause of different conditions. For example, in
1997, researchers identified a gene that was found in families prone to
Parkinson’s disease, a neurological disorder involving tremors and
difficulties making movements (Polymeropoulos et al., 1997). Since then,
a number of genes that are linked to Parkinson’s have been identified
including SNCA, PRKN, PINK1, PARK7, and LRRK2 (Nuytemans et al.,
2010).
However, we must be cautious in our interpretation of such discoveries.
Like any approach to answering scientific questions, behavioural genomic
research does have its limitations. For example, although a single gene
has been identified as a risk factor for Alzheimer’s disease, not everyone
who inherits it develops the disease. Perhaps it is the combination of
multiple genes that leads to Alzheimer’s, or that a specific environmental
trigger leads to the gene’s expression. The same is true for just about all
other medical conditions and other characteristics. However, the idea that
a single gene causes diseases like Alzheimer’s is a common
misconception about genes and behaviour.
Myths in Mind
Single Genes and Behaviour
Enter the phrase “scientists find the gene for” into your
favourite search engine and you will wind up with more hits
than you would ever have time to sift through. Although it is
true that behaviour, both normal and abnormal, can be traced
to individual genes, typically combinations of genes influence

behaviour. When it comes to complex characteristics such as
personality or disorders like Alzheimer’s disease and

schizophrenia, there is very little chance that any single gene
could be responsible for them (Duan et al., 2010). A person’s

intelligence and predisposition to alcoholism, anxiety, shyness,
and depression are all examples of traits and conditions with
genetic links, but they all involve multiple genes.
Another misconception is that a single gene can affect only
one trait. In reality, the discovery that a particular gene

predisposes someone to alcoholism does not mean that this
gene is only relevant to alcohol addiction; it most likely affects

other traits as well. For example, genes that are present in
people who abuse alcohol are also more likely to be found in

individuals who have a history of other problems such as
additional forms of drug dependence and antisocial behaviour.
In other words, these different behaviours may share some

characteristics, and the gene may be related to that “shared
genetic liability” (Dick, 2007).
So, when you encounter a headline beginning “Scientists find

gene for . . . ,” don’t read it as “Scientists found THE gene for. . .
.” It is likely that the news describes the work of scientists who
found another one of the many genes involved in a disorder or,

in the case of Alzheimer’s disease, a gene that is a risk factor
and not the sole cause.

Behavioural Genetics: Twin and Adoption
Studies
Although behavioural genomics studies can identify genes related to
behaviours, they don’t tell us how sensitive these genes are to
environmental factors like stress, family life, or socioeconomic status.

These questions are examined using a complementary field known as
behavioural genetics , the study of how genes and the environment influence
behaviour. Behavioural genetic methods applied to humans typically
involve comparing people of different levels of relatedness, such as
parents and their offspring, siblings, and unrelated individuals, and

measuring resemblances for a specific trait of interest. The group that has
provided the most insight into the genetic effects on behaviour is twins.
Twins present an amazing opportunity to conduct natural experiments on
how genes influence behaviour. One method commonly used in twin

studies involves comparing identical and fraternal twins. Monozygotic
twins  come from a single ovum (egg), which makes them genetically identical
(almost 100% genetic similarity). An ideal comparison group, dizygotic
twins  (fraternal twins) come from two separate eggs fertilized by two
different sperm cells that share the same womb; these twins have approximately
50% of their genetics in common. Researchers around the world have
studied the genetic and environmental bases of behaviour by comparing
monozygotic twins, dizygotic twins, non-twin siblings, and unrelated
individuals. The assumption underlying these studies is that if a trait is

genetically determined, then individuals with a greater genetic similarity
will also have a greater similarity for that trait. Researchers have also
examined these different groups in longitudinal studies , studies that
follow the same individuals for many years, often decades. For example, one
twin study determined the degree to which anxiety and depression are
influenced by genetics in children and adolescents. It was far more likely
for both monozygotic twins to show anxiety or depressive symptoms than
for both dizygotic twins to do so; thus, these results demonstrate the
influential role that genes play in depression (Boomsma et al., 2005).
Watch Genes, Heritability, and Genetic Concordance
Behavioural geneticists use twin studies to calculate heritability —a

statistic, expressed as a number between zero and one, that represents the degree
to which genetic differences between individuals contribute to individual

differences in a behaviour or trait found in a population. A heritability of 0
means that genes do not contribute to individual differences in a trait,

whereas a heritability of 1.0 indicates that genes account for all individual
differences in a trait. It is important to point out that heritability scores do

not simply reflect how much genetics contributes to the trait itself. Rather,
heritability scores tell us the degree to which genetics explain differences

between people with that trait. So, the heritability of having a tongue is 0
because we all have a tongue (i.e., there are no differences to explain).
But the taste sensitivity of that tongue differs based on genetics and on
the foods you were exposed to while growing up. Your sensitivity to
different tastes will therefore have a heritability score somewhere
between 0 and 1.
Identical twins are genetically the same, whereas fraternal twins are no
more closely related than full siblings from different pregnancies.
However, fraternal twins do share much of the same prenatal and
postnatal environment if they are reared together. Researchers assume,
then, that if the identical twins are more similar on a given trait than
fraternal twins, this difference is due to genetics.
Top: Creatas Images/Thinkstock/Getty Images; bottom: Martin Harvey/Alamy Stock Photo
Heritability estimates are rarely, if ever, an extreme value of 0 or 1.0.
Instead, genetics and environmental influences (e.g., family life) both

account for some of the differences in our behaviour. For instance, the
estimated heritability found in the study on depression and anxiety
described earlier was approximately 0.76 for three-year-old identical twin

pairs (Boomsma et al., 2005). This tells us that 76% of individual
differences in depression and anxiety at age three can be attributed to
genetic factors in the population that was studied. However, depression

and anxiety can also obviously be influenced by our different life
experiences. It should not be a surprise to learn that heritability estimates
for these behaviours change as we age. In the Boomsma and colleagues
(2005) study, the heritability of anxiety and depression went from 0.76 at
age three to 0.48 at age 12 for the identical twin pairs (see Figure 3.4 ).
This change is likely due to the fact that an individual’s peer group and
social life can have a larger effect on one’s emotional well-being during
the “tween” and teen-aged years than they would during the toddler years
(when family is the main non-genetic factor). This finding should serve as
a reminder that the environment never stops interacting with genes.
Figure 3.4 Genetics, Shared Environments, and Depression
Scientists have found that genetics plays a role in depression and anxiety.
However, the heritability coefficient for depression and anxiety scores
varies with age, ranging from explaining 0.76 to 0.48 of the variance.
Interestingly, the impact of the environment also increased from having
little to no impact at ages three and seven to accounting for 0.18 of the
variance in depression and anxiety scores at age 12.
Behavioural geneticists also study adopted children to estimate genetic
contributions to behaviour. The adopted family represents the nurture
side of the continuum, whereas the biological family represents the nature
side. On the one hand, if adopted children are more like their biological
parents than their adoptive parents on measures of traits such as
personality and intelligence, we might conclude that these traits have a
strong genetic component. On the other hand, if the children are more
like their adoptive, genetically unrelated parents, a strong case can be

made that environmental factors outweigh the biological predispositions.
Interestingly, young adopted children are more similar to their adoptive
parents in intelligence levels than they are to their biological parents. By
the time they reach 16 years, however, adopted adolescents score more
similarly to their biological parents than their adoptive parents in tests of
intelligence, suggesting that some genes related to intelligence do not
exert their influence(s) on behaviour until later on in development
(Plomin et al., 1997). Compare this finding to that from the study
described in the preceding paragraphs: For intelligence, heritability seems

to increase with age, whereas the opposite is true for depression and
anxiety.
Heritability estimates can vary with age. The heritability of depression
and anxiety decreases with age whereas the heritability of intelligence
increases with age.
Left: Ale Ventura/PhotoAlto Agency RF Collections/Getty Images; right: SDI

Productions/E+/Getty Images
Although heritability estimates provide important information about the

different effects of “nature” and “nurture” on different behaviours, we
have to be cautious about how we generalize this information.
Heritability estimates are limited to the population being studied. We
cannot make definitive statements about the heritability of depression in
Brazil based on the results of a study conducted in Canada (although we

can use the Canadian study to generate hypotheses about what we think
we would find if we performed the same study in Brazil). This is because
any estimate of heritability is affected by (1) the amount of genetic
variability within the group being studied and (2) the variability in the
environments that members of that group might be exposed to. For
example, people from an isolated village in the Amazon rain forest would
likely not have much variability in their genetics because they would not
have a lot of contact with outside groups. In contrast, many Canadians

have diverse genetic backgrounds. Therefore, the individual differences in
the Amazon village would most likely be due to environmental factors;
this would lead to a lower heritability estimate for this group. This is not
to say that one way of life is better than another—but we need to be
mindful of these differences in genetic and environmental variability so

that we don’t incorrectly assume that North American genetic studies
generalize to the entire world.
Gene Expression and Behaviour
The fact that heritability estimates change over time based on our
different experiences shows us that nature and nurture interact to
produce behaviour. What these estimates don’t tell us is how that
interaction occurs in our bodies and brains. Recent advances in our
understanding of genetics and the human genome have begun to shed

light on some of these relationships.
Almost every cell in our bodies contains the same genes, the basic unit of
heredity. But, only some of these genes are active, leading to the
production of proteins (or other gene products, such as ribosomal RNA);

the other genes are inactive and do not influence protein production. Of
the approximately 20 000 to 25 000 genes in the human genome, between
6000 and 7000 are active in the human brain. These genes influence the
development of various brain structures, the production of chemicals that
allow brain cells to communicate with each other, and the refinement of
connections between cells that allow large-scale brain networks to form
(French & Pavlidis, 2011). The expression of these genes is influenced by
genetics, environmental factors that influence the chemical make-up of
the cells, or a combination of the two.
If some genes fail to be activated (or expressed) properly, people may be at
a greater risk for developing brain-related disorders. For example, Dan
Geschwind and colleagues (2011) found that children with autism had
less gene expression in several regions of the brain. This decrease in gene
expression was linked to problems with language, decision making, and
understanding other people’s emotions. Other researchers have
investigated the role of gene expression in conditions ranging from
addictions (Ajonijebu et al., 2017) to memory (Day & Sweatt, 2011).
Importantly, gene expression is a lifelong process (Champagne, 2010).
Factors such as diet, stress level, and sleep can influence whether genes
are turned on or off. This study of changes in gene expression that occur as a
result of experience and that do not alter the genetic code is known as
epigenetics . Studies with mice have shown that increased maternal

licking and grooming (the rodent equivalent of cuddling) led to an
increase in the expression of the GR gene in the hippocampus (Francis et
al., 1999). This gene influences stress responses and can affect how well
(or poorly) individuals respond to novel situations. Low levels of licking
and grooming led to decreased GR expression and a larger stress
response (Weaver et al., 2004). Similar effects have been observed in
humans. Decreased GR expression was noted in a recent study of
childhood abuse victims who later committed suicide, demonstrating the
power of these gene–environment interactions. Indeed, there is

increasing evidence that epigenetics plays a role in a number of
psychological disorders (Labrie et al., 2012).

Epigenetics research suggests that grooming not only influences social
bonds, but can also affect the expression of genes.
Eric Isselee/123RF
The fact that gene expression can be influenced by the environment is an

example of the social part of the biopsychosocial model of behaviour
discussed throughout this text—nurture can influence nature. Some

researchers have speculated that gene expression could also be
influenced by the culture in which one lives. Culture, family, and other
social bonds all influence how we respond—both psychologically and
biologically—to a variety of situations and stimuli. Therefore, these

sociocultural factors have the potential to influence whether or not
certain genes are expressed (Richardson & Boyd, 2005).

Altering Genes and Gene Expression
The advances that genetics researchers have made in the past two
decades are stunning. Perhaps the most notable of these discoveries is
CRISPR-Cas9  (often shortened simply to CRISPR and pronounced
“crisper”), a technique that allows genetic material to be removed, added, or
altered in specific locations of the genome. CRISPR was developed after

researchers discovered that bacteria can capture sections of DNA from
invading viruses. The bacteria use this DNA as a memory aid of sorts,
allowing them to recognize the virus if it attacks again. When the virus
does attack, the bacteria uses information from the snipped DNA to
create an enzyme that cuts apart the virus’s DNA, thus disabling it (Hsu et
al., 2014).
Scientists can now use CRISPR to study—and to potentially fix—a number
of genetic disorders, including the genes related to several diseases that
target the brain, such as Parkinson’s disease and Alzheimer’s disease

(Heidenreich & Zhang, 2016). These changes in DNA also influence how
genes are expressed. In fact, researchers are now investigating ways to
alter gene expression in order to treat various brain disorders.
Importantly, this gene editing will be isolated to that individual—the
researchers will not be manipulating genetic material that would be
passed on to future generations.
However, even with this restriction, manipulating genetics is not a simple
thing. We know very little about the how altering one set of genes will
affect other genes. For instance, some researchers are concerned that the
experiments performed by Dr. He, the Chinese scientist discussed at the
beginning of this module, will leave the twin girls whose genes were
edited more vulnerable to other disorders, such as West Nile virus (Glass
et al., 2006; Hvistendahl, 2018). For now, the public outcry related to Dr.
He’s work suggests that gene editing in humans will be strictly controlled
by governments and scientific organizations. But the temptation to
manipulate genes in order to promote specific physical and cognitive
traits will likely prove irresistible to some ambitious researcher in the
future.
Knowing about genes gives us some idea as to why individuals differ. But
genes don’t tell the whole story. We also need to examine how some
traits or physical characteristics enhanced our ancestors’ ability to survive
and to pass on these genes to future generations, including us.

Evolutionary Insights into Human
Behaviour
On December 27, 1831, a young Charles Darwin began his voyage on the
HMS Beagle, a ship tasked to survey the coastline of South America.
Darwin’s (self-funded) position was to act as a naturalist, examining the
wildlife, flora, and geology of the areas the ship visited. This five-year
voyage, which included additional stops in Australia and South Africa,

exposed Darwin to a vast number of species, and eventually led to him
developing one of the most important—and controversial—theories in
human history.
While travelling among the Galápagos Islands (900 km west of modern-

day Ecuador), Darwin made a number of important observations. First, he
identified fossils from several extinct species. This discovery highlighted
the fact that not all species were able to survive in this environment. But
some species did have characteristics that allowed them to flourish.
Second, he noticed small differences between the same species of birds
and turtles living on different islands. These differences meshed quite

well with the particular environments the animals lived in. For example, a
species of sea birds whose food supply consisted of crabs that hid along a
rocky shore might evolve to have a differently shaped beak than a species
of sea birds who had to dive underwater to catch fish. From these
observations, Darwin deduced that the species that were a good “fit” for
their environment survived while other species did not.

The challenge for Darwin was to find a way to explain this observation.
Looking at the individual animals, he saw a number of small differences
similar to the differences you’d see between people in your classroom.
Some individuals had traits that would enhance their ability to survive,
such as speed and strength. These individuals would likely get enough
food to eat and would be able to find mates. Individuals without these
traits would be less likely to mate. If this pattern continued, there would
be more offspring with the favourable traits (strength and speed) than
without those characteristics. Darwin developed these observations into
his theory of natural selection , the process by which favourable traits

become increasingly common in a population of interbreeding individuals, while
traits that are unfavourable become less common (see Figure 3.5 ).
Figure 3.5 How Traits Evolve

Evolution through natural selection requires both that a trait be heritable
(i.e., be passed down through reproductive means) and that certain
individuals within a breeding population have a reproductive advantage
for having the trait.
© Pearson Education, Inc.
Although genes had not yet been discovered, they lay at the heart of
Darwin’s theories. When animals mate, each parent provides half of the
offspring’s genetic material. The genes of some animals would combine in

such a way to produce traits favourable to that setting (i.e., they were
adaptive) and the genes of other animals would combine in less useful
ways. Because the adaptive or fit animals were more likely to survive and
reproduce, these traits—and therefore these genes—would be more likely

to be passed on to future generations. This process is known as
evolution , the change in the frequency of genes occurring in an interbreeding
population over generations.
Evolution is not a continuous process, however. If an animal is perfectly

adapted for its environment, then there is no evolutionary pressure for
change to occur. Let’s call that version 1.0 of the animal. But what if some
pressure such as a change in the climate or the availability of food occurs?
In this case, a given trait might be advantageous in that specific
environment and specific point in time. Individuals with that trait would
survive; those without it might not. Through natural selection, this trait
would eventually become common within that species and may in the
future serve other functions and interact with the environment in novel
ways. Let’s call this version 2.0 of the animal. When the next
environmental pressure occurred, a subset of version 2.0 of the animal
would possess traits to make them more evolutionarily fit than the other
version 2.0 animals. This subset would survive and reproduce, eventually
leading to version 3.0 of the animal. While this description is over-
simplified, it does illustrate a key point: Any modern species is based
upon version after version after version of species that were fit for their
particular environment and time.

Evolutionary Psychology
Darwin suggested that humans followed a similar evolutionary path,
changing and adapting over the course of thousands of generations. He
was correct—there is now fossil evidence showing that many branches of
our ancestral family tree died out, likely because their physical and
mental characteristics were not fit for their environment. What separated
our species, Homo sapiens, from other animals was that our ancestors had
(1) larger frontal lobes than other species (see Figure 3.6 ) and (2) had
brains with more folds, thus allowing for more brain cells to be squeezed
inside their skulls. These adaptations allowed our ancestors to form plans,
solve problems, make quick decisions, and control our attention and
actions (Stuss, 2011). As a result, they were able to think their way out of
different challenges such as changes to the environment or food supply.
They also were able to communicate this knowledge using symbolic
representations of objects and ideas, as shown in carvings and cave
paintings (Chase & Dibble, 1987); this allowed them to pass on

knowledge from generation to generation, just as they passed on their
genes.
Figure 3.6 The Prefrontal Cortex in Different Species

Human brains have much more space dedicated to the frontal lobes,
particularly the prefrontal cortex, than any other species. This brain area
is related to many of our higher cognitive functions, such as problem
solving and decision making.
Source: Based on Fuster, J. M. (1989). The Prefrontal Cortex: Anatomy, Physiology, and
Neuropsychology of the Frontal Lobe, 2nd ed. New York: Raven Press.
Although all of this makes intuitive sense to us now, in the second half of
the 19th century, Darwin’s theories were met with considerable
opposition. By stating that animals evolved over time based on
environmental pressures, Darwin was challenging the view that animals

had been created “as is” by an all-knowing deity. By stating that all
humans had common ancestors that evolved into modern people, Darwin
was demonstrating that all people—regardless of ethnicity or economic
status—were essentially equal. This view was not popular in Victorian

England, where the aristocracy looked at the working class with disdain
and where the English felt that they had the right to colonize non-
Caucasian countries such as India and parts of Africa. However, over
time, Darwin’s ideas became accepted in almost all scientific circles.

Today, a modern branch of psychology known as evolutionary
psychology  attempts to explain human behaviours based on the beneficial

function(s) they may have served in our species’ development.
Natural selection suggests that some traits make an individual more likely
to survive and therefore to reproduce. As a result, individuals with
superior physical and cognitive traits were able to pass on their genetic
material to subsequent generations. These genetic and evolutionary
success stories eventually led to the development of the most complex

structure known to humanity, and the topic of Modules 3.2  and 3.3 :
the human brain.

Hunters and Gatherers: Men, Women, and

Spatial Memory
Evolutionary psychologists are now attempting to link
evolutionarily useful behaviours that were performed by our

ancestors with our own modern cognitive abilities. One notable
area of investigation is the study of differences in male and
female cognitive abilities.
What do we know about the sex differences in

spatial memory?
Evolutionary psychologists hypothesize that male and female
brains will differ in some ways because males and females have
had to solve a different set of problems in order to survive and
reproduce. Specifically, due to their size and strength, males were
traditionally responsible for tracking and killing animals. These
responsibilities would require males to travel over long distances

without becoming lost. In other words, males needed to have
good spatial skills and the ability to form accurate mental maps.
Females, due to the fact that they gave birth and cared for
children, were likely unable to go on many of these long-distance
hunting expeditions. Instead, they contributed to the group’s food
supply by foraging for berries and edible plants that were located
closer to home. Therefore, females’ responsibilities required a
good memory for the location of objects (e.g., plants). The

question, then, is whether the abilities that were adaptive for
males and females over the course of our species’ evolution are
still present today (Silverman & Eals, 1992). Put another way, will
modern males and females show performance differences on
different tests of spatial abilities that are consistent with their
historic roles as hunter (males) and gatherer (females)? This is
the logic behind the hunter-gatherer theory , which explicitly
links performance on specific tasks to the different roles performed by
males and females over the course of our evolutionary history.
How can science test sex differences and

spatial memory?
One sex difference that has been reported involves solving the
mental rotation task. In this task, participants see a three-
dimensional image. They are then shown several additional
figures, one of which is a rotated version of the original image.

The task is to identify the rotated figure as quickly and as
accurately as possible. To make this task more concrete, try the
examples shown in Figure 3.7 .
Figure 3.7 Mental Rotation Task
Instructions: Take a close look at standard object #1. One of the

three objects to the right of it is the same. Which one matches the
standard? Repeat this with standard object #2 and the three
comparison shapes to the right of it.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J., Namy, L. L., & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology:
From Inquiry to Understanding, 2nd Ed. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by
permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Answers: 1. A; 2. B
Research shows that males are generally able to perform this task
more quickly than females, and with greater accuracy. A possible

reason for this difference is that it is influenced by testosterone
levels, which are typically higher in males. In fact, researchers

have found that males with high testosterone levels were better
at solving the task than males with low levels of testosterone

(Hooven et al., 2004). These studies suggests that there is a
biological (and possibly evolutionary) explanation for the male

advantage in performing this specific task.
Researchers have also found that females outperform males on

different types of spatial tasks, specifically, tests involving
memory for the spatial location of objects (see Figure 3.8 ). In
addition to laboratory-based tests, females outperformed men in
experiments conducted in natural settings. In one study, women

were able to locate specific plants more quickly than were men
and also made fewer mistakes in identifying them (New et al.,
2007). This advantage may be due to females’ evolutionary role

as a gatherer rather than as a hunter.
Figure 3.8 Spatial Location Memory Task

In this task, participants are asked to remember the location of
specific items.
Source: Republished with permission of Springer Science, from Silverman, I., Choi, J.,
& Peters, M. (2007). The Hunter-Gatherer Theory of Sex Difference in Spatial Abilities:
Data from 40 countries, Archives of Sexual Behavior, 36(2), 261–268; permission
conveyed through Copyright Clearance Center, Inc.

Although sex differences on different forms of spatial abilities
have been observed in a number of conditions (Voyer et al.,

2004), there are some points worth considering. The first is that
an overall sex difference does not mean that all males will be
better at mental-rotation tasks than all females. There is a great
deal of variability within each group on almost all cognitive and

perceptual abilities. It is better to think of the sex differences in
mental rotation and spatial location tasks in terms of overlapping
curves whose average scores differ slightly rather than as one sex
being superior to the other on that cognitive ability. A second
issue is whether these differences occur across cultures. Although

the roles of hunter and gatherer were likely present in most
ancient cultures due to females’ need to be with young children,
there are much greater differences in modern cultures. Some
cultures have very strict sex roles that could influence the
education and abilities of males and females. Would culture
influence the size of the sex differences on tests like the mental-
rotation task? As it turns out, the answer is no. The male
advantage in the mental-rotation task has been observed in 40

countries, suggesting that the finding is not restricted to
Canadian universities (Silverman et al., 2007). However,
although these results support the hypothesis that the differences
on tasks like the mental-rotation task are biological in origin, they
do not necessarily show that these differences are due to the

evolutionary roles of hunter and gatherer. The differences might
be due to males and females using different strategies on the
tasks (Boone & Hegarty, 2017). They might also be due to
hormone differences in individuals rather than to sex differences

per se. Additionally, while evolutionary psychology presents
possible explanations, it is more likely that they are only one of
many factors influencing your behaviour. Remember the
biopsychosocial model!

The hunter-gatherer hypothesis shows us that the behaviours of
our ancestors might have had an effect on the abilities of modern

humans. The physical and cognitive characteristics that made
males evolutionarily fit likely differed slightly from the
characteristics that benefited females. Males with good spatial
skills and females with good location memory would have been
more successful than individuals who did not have those abilities.
But while males and females differ on some skills, the differences
are generally quite small, with many females outperforming
males on spatial tasks. Therefore, it is important to be careful
about over-interpreting the results of these studies.

Module 3.1 Summary
3.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to genes, heredity,

and evolutionary psychology.
Review Module 3.1
3.1b Understand . . . how twin and adoption studies reveal

relationships between genes and behaviour.
Both methods measure genetic, environmental, and interactive
contributions to behaviour. Twin studies typically compare monozygotic

twins (genetically identical) and dizygotic twins (full siblings sharing the
prenatal environment). Adoption studies compare adopted children to
their adoptive and biological parents. These designs allow researchers to
determine heritability, a number between 0 and 1 that estimates the
degree to which individual differences in a trait (in a given population)
are due to genetic factors. A heritability of 1.0 would mean that genes
contribute to 100% of individual differences. A heritability of 0 would
mean that genes have no effect on individual differences. Many human
characteristics, including intelligence and personality, have heritability
estimates typically ranging between 0.40 and 0.70.
3.1c Apply . . . your knowledge of genes and behaviour to

hypothesize why a trait might be adaptive.
Try putting yourself in an evolutionary psychologist’s position and answer
the following two questions.
Apply Activity
3.1d Analyze . . . claims that scientists have located a specific
gene that controls a single trait or behaviour.
Most psychological traits, as well as disorders such as Alzheimer’s
disease, involve multiple genes, some of which may not yet have even
been discovered. (See the Myths in Mind  feature.)
3.1e Analyze . . . explanations for cognitive gender differences

that are rooted in genetics.
The Working the Scientific Literacy Model  feature summarized research
showing that males have an advantage when it comes to a specific mental
rotation task. Given that this is a relatively consistent sex difference, high
testosterone levels are associated with better performance on the task,
and the male advantage has been found cross-culturally, it seems

plausible that this difference has a genetic basis. In future chapters we
will return to issues related to sex-based differences in cognitive abilities

(see Module 9.2 ).
Module 3.2 How the Nervous
System Works: Cells and
Neurotransmitters

Rod Williams/Nature Picture Library
3.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with nerve cells,
hormones, and their functioning.
3.2b Understand . . . how nerve cells communicate.
3.2c Understand . . . the ways that drugs and other substances affect
the brain.
3.2d Understand . . . the roles that hormones play in our behaviour.
3.2e Apply . . . your knowledge of neurotransmitters to understand
how they relate to common diseases and psychological
disorders.
3.2f Analyze . . . the claim that we are born with all the nerve cells
we will ever have.
A bite from an Australian species of snake called the taipan can kill an
adult human within 30 minutes. In fact, it is recognized as the most
lethally venomous species of snake in the world (50 times more potent
than the also fatal venom of the king cobra). The venom of the taipan is
neurotoxic, meaning that it specifically attacks cells of the nervous

system. These cells are involved with more than just “thinking”—in fact,
networks of nervous system cells working together are critical for basic
life functions like breathing and having a heartbeat. A direct attack on
these cells, therefore, spells trouble. In the case of the taipan, its bite first
leads to drowsiness followed by difficulties controlling the head and

neck muscles. Victims then experience progressive difficulty with
swallowing, followed by tightness of the chest and paralysis of

breathing. If enough venom was injected and treatment is not
available, coma and death occur. All of this happens because of damage
to the cells that will be discussed in this module—cells that work

together to produce the complex human behaviours we engage in every
day.
Incidentally, not all snake venom attacks the nervous system. The
venom found in most rattlesnakes in North America is not neurotoxic

(although you still shouldn’t hug one). Instead, it damages tissue in the
vicinity of the bite as well as those tissues it reaches within the

bloodstream, particularly the heart. Although this is not exactly
comforting news, it should at least allow you to enjoy nature without

being afraid that a snake will attack your nervous system’s cells. That’s
what spiders are for . . .
When we think of cells, we often imagine looking at plants or earthworms
through a microscope in high-school biology class. Although thrilling,

this activity likely seems to be the furthest thing from the study of
behaviour. However, cells—particularly cells in the nervous system—play

an incredibly important role in absolutely everything you do, from
moving and sensing to thinking and feeling. Understanding how the
nervous system’s cells function and communicate with each other as part
of networks will help you better understand topics discussed in later
modules, such as how we learn (Modules 6.1 , 6.2 , and 7.1 ), how
different drugs (both clinical and recreational) work (Modules 5.3  and
16.3 ), and how stress affects our bodies and brains (Module 14.2 ).
This module therefore serves as a building block that will deepen your
understanding of almost all of the behaviours that make you “you.”

Neural Communication
The human body is composed of many types of cells. Psychologists are

most interested in neurons , one of the major types of cells found in the
nervous system, that are responsible for sending and receiving messages
throughout the body. Billions of these cells receive and transmit messages
every day, including while you are asleep. Millions of them are firing as a
result of you reading these words. In order to understand how this
particular type of cell can produce complex behaviours, it is necessary to
take a closer look at the structure and function of the neuron.

The Neuron
The primary purpose of neurons is to “fire,” to receive input from one
group of neurons and to then transmit that information to other neurons.
Doing so allows single neurons to work together as part of networks
involving thousands (and sometimes millions) of other cells; this will
eventually lead to some form of behaviour. To that end, neurons are

designed in such a way that there are parts of the cell specialized for
receiving incoming information from other neurons and parts of the cell
specialized for transmitting information to other neurons.
Watch The Structure of the Neuron
All neurons have a cell body  (also known as the soma), the part of a
neuron that contains the nucleus that houses the cell’s genetic material (see
Figure 3.9 ). Genes in the cell body synthesize proteins that form the
chemicals and structures that allow the neuron to function. The activity of
these genes can be influenced by the input coming from other cells. This
input is received by dendrites , small branches radiating from the cell body
that receive messages from other cells and transmit those messages toward the
rest of the cell. At any given point in time, a neuron will receive input from
several other neurons (sometimes over 1000 other neurons!). These
impulses from other cells will travel across the neuron to the base of the
cell body known as the axon hillock. If the axon hillock receives enough
stimulation from other neurons, it will initiate a chemical reaction that

will flow down the rest of the neuron.
Figure 3.9 Structures of the Neuron
This chemical reaction is the initial step in a neuron communicating with

other cells (i.e., influencing whether other cells will fire or not). The
activity will travel from the axon hillock along a tail-like structure that
protrudes from the cell body. This structure, the axon , transports
information in the form of electrochemical reactions from the cell body to the end
of the neuron. When the activity reaches the end of the axon, it will arrive
at axon terminals , bulb-like extensions filled with vesicles (little bags of

molecules). These vesicles contain neurotransmitters , the chemicals that
function as messengers allowing neurons to communicate with each other. The

impulse travelling down the axon will stimulate the release of these
neurotransmitters, thus allowing neural communication to take place.

Many types of neurotransmitters exist, and each can have a number of
functions—something we will explore in more detail later in this module.
Although all neurons are designed to transmit information, not all
neurons perform the same function. Sensory neurons receive information

from the bodily senses and bring it toward the brain, often via the spinal
cord. In contrast, motor neurons carry messages away from the brain and
spinal cord and toward muscles in order to control their flexion and
extension (see Figure 3.10 ).
Figure 3.10 Sensory and Motor Neurons

Sensory neurons carry information toward the spinal cord and the brain,
whereas motor neurons send messages to muscles of the body. The
interneuron links the sensory and motor neurons. This is the pathway of
a simple withdrawal response to a painful stimulus.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J., Namy, L. L., & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From Inquiry To
Understanding, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson
Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Within the brain itself, the structure and function of neurons varies
considerably. Some cells have few if any dendrites extending from the cell
body; these cells do not perform tasks requiring a lot of interactions with
other neurons. In contrast, some neurons have huge branches of
dendrites. Obviously, these latter neurons will perform functions
involving more communication between neurons. The key point is that
these differences between neurons are not simply due to chance—they

have a purpose. The physical structure of a neuron is related to the
function it performs.
Myths in Mind
We Are Born with All the Brain Cells We Will Ever Have
For decades, neuroscience taught us that nerves do not

regenerate; in other words, scientists believed that we are born
with all the brain cells we will ever have. This conclusion made
perfect sense because no one had ever seen new neurons form
in adults, and severe neurological damage is often permanent.
In the past 20 years or so, however, advances in brain science

have challenged this belief (Wojtowicz, 2012). Researchers have
observed neurogenesis —the formation of new neurons—in a
limited number of brain regions, particularly in the
hippocampus, a region critical for learning and memory
(Eriksson et al., 1998; Cameron & Glover, 2015). The growth of a

new cell, including neurons, starts with stem cells —a unique
type of cell that does not have a predestined function. When a
stem cell divides, the resulting cells can become part of just
about anything—bone, kidney, or brain tissue. The deciding

factor seems to be the stem cell’s chemical environment
(Abematsu et al., 2006).
Initially, scientists thought that adult neurogenesis was a way

for the brain to replace old or damaged neurons. However,
recent studies indicate that neurogenesis allows the brain to
form new pathways, a phenomenon known as neuroplasticity

(described in greater detail later in this module). Neurogenesis
in the hippocampus has been linked to a number of functions
including memory, anxiety and stress responses, and the
inhibition of behaviours (Christian et al., 2014). Neuroscientists

are just beginning to understand the role(s) that neurogenesis
plays in these diverse behaviours.
The discovery of neurogenesis has raised some exciting
possibilities—perhaps scientists can discover how to trigger

the neural growth in other parts of the nervous system. Doing
so might allow scientists to repair damaged brain structures or
to add cells to brain areas affected by degenerative diseases
like Parkinson’s disease and Alzheimer’s disease. When this
technology is developed, there may finally be hope for recovery

from injury and disease in all nerve cells.
Glial Cells
Although neurons are essential for our ability to sense, move, and think,
they cannot function without support from other cells. This support
comes from different types of cells collectively known as glia (Greek for
“glue”). Glial cells  are specialized cells of the nervous system that are
involved in mounting immune responses in the brain, removing waste, and

synchronizing the activity of the billions of neurons that constitute the nervous
system. Given that glial cells perform so many support functions, it should
come as no surprise to learn that they outnumber neurons in the brain by
a ratio of approximately 10 to 1.
A critical function served by certain glial cells is to insulate the axon of a
neuron. These glial cells form a white substance called myelin , a fatty
sheath that insulates axons from one another, resulting in increased speed and
efficiency of neural communication. In an unmyelinated axon, the neural
impulse decays quickly and needs to be regenerated along the axon; the
myelin protects the impulse from this decay, thus reducing how often the
impulse needs to be regenerated. The speed difference between axons
with and without myelin is substantial. Axons without myelin transmit
information at speeds ranging from 0.5 to 10 m/s (metres per second);
myelinated axons transmit information at speeds of up to 150 m/s
(Hartline & Coleman, 2007; Hursh et al., 1939). For obvious reasons,
most neurons in the brain have myelin.

When the myelin sheath is damaged, the efficiency of the axon decreases
substantially. This can lead to a number of impairments. For instance,
multiple sclerosis  is a disease in which the immune system does not
recognize myelin and attacks it—a process that can devastate the structural and
functional integrity of the nervous system. When myelin breaks down in
multiple sclerosis, it impairs the ability of the affected neurons to transmit
information along their axons. As a result, groups of brain structures that
normally fire together to produce a behaviour can no longer work as a
functional network (Rocca et al., 2010; Shu et al., 2011). It would be
similar to trying to drive a car that is missing a wheel. The specific

symptoms associated with multiple sclerosis differ depending upon where
in the brain the myelin damage occurred. Numbness or tingling
sensations could be caused by the disruption of sensory nerve cell signals
that should otherwise reach the brain. Problems with voluntary,
coordinated movement could be due to the breakdown of myelin that
supports motor nerves. The important point is that damage to a small
group of axons can lead to impairments in the functioning of large
networks of brain areas (Rocca et al., 2012).
As you can see, each part of an individual neuron and glial cell performs
an important function. Ultimately, however, it is the activity of networks

of nerve cells that allows messages to be transmitted within the brain and
the rest of the body. This activity involves the most important function a
neuron can perform: to fire.
The Neuron’s Electrical System: Resting and
Action Potentials
Neural activity is based on changes in the concentrations of charged
atoms called ions. When a neuron is not firing, the outside of the neuron
has a relatively high concentration of positively charged ions—particularly

sodium ions—compared to the inside of the neuron. This difference in
charge between the inside and outside of the cell leaves the inside of the
axon with a negative charge of approximately −70 millivolts (−70 mV; see
the first panel of Figure 3.11 ). This relatively stable state during which the
cell is not transmitting messages is known as its resting potential .
Figure 3.11 Electrical Charges of the Inner and Outer Regions of Nerve Cells
The inner and outer environments of a nerve cell at rest differ in terms of
their electrical charge. During the resting potential, there is a net negative
charge. When a nerve cell is stimulated, generating an action potential,
positively charged ions rush inside the cell membrane. After the cell has
fired, the positively charged ions are channelled back outside the nerve
cell as it returns to a resting state.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J., Namy, L. L., & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From Inquiry To
Importantly, this seemingly stable resting state involves a great deal of
tension. This is because of two forces: the electrostatic gradient and the
concentration gradient. Don’t let these technical terms scare you: the
electrostatic gradient just means that the inside and outside of the cell
have different charges (negative and positive, respectively), and the
concentration gradient just means that different types of ions are more
densely packed on one side of the membrane than on the other (e.g.,
there are more sodium ions outside the cell than inside the cell).
However, most substances have a tendency to move from areas of high
concentration to areas of low concentration whenever possible; in other
words, substances spread out whenever they can so that they are evenly
distributed. So, if ion channels , small pores on the neuron’s cell membrane,
opened up, there would be a natural tendency for positively charged
sodium ions to rush into the cell.
This is what happens when a neuron is stimulated. The surge of positive
ions into the cell changes the potential of the neuron (e.g., changing from
−70 mV to −68 mV). These charges flow down the dendrites and cross the
cell body to the axon hillock, where the cell body meets the axon. If
enough positively charged ions reach the axon hillock to push its charge
past that cell’s firing threshold (e.g., −55 mV), the neuron will then
initiate an action potential , a wave of electrical activity that originates at
the beginning of the axon near the cell body and rapidly travels down its length
(see the middle panel of Figure 3.11 ). When an action potential occurs,
the charge of that part of the axon changes from approximately −70 mV to
approximately +35 mV; in other words, the cell changes from being
negatively to positively charged (see Figure 3.12 ). This change does not
occur along the entire axon at once. Rather, as one part of the axon
becomes depolarized, it forces open the ion channels ahead of it, thus
causing the action potential to move down the length of the axon as
positively charged ions rush through the membrane pores (Hodgkin,
1937). This pattern continues until the action potential reaches the axon
terminal.
Figure 3.12
Time Course and Phases of a Nerve Cell Going from a Resting Potential to an Action Potential
Nerve cells fire once the threshold of excitation is reached. During the
action potential, positively charged ions rush inside the cell membrane,
creating a net positive charge within the cell. Positively charged ions are
then forced out of the cell as it returns to its resting potential.
Source:Based on Sternberg, R. J. (2004) The Time Course and Phases of a Nerve Cell Going from
Resting to Action Potential, Culture and Intelligence. American Psychologist, 59, 325–338.
Of course, if this were the entire story, then all of our neurons would fire
once and never fire again because the ion channels would remain open.
Luckily for us, there are mechanisms in place to help our neurons return
to their resting state (−70 mV) so that they can fire again. At each point of
the axon, the ion channels slam shut as soon as the action potential
occurs. The sodium ions that had rushed into the axon are then rapidly
pumped back out of the cell, returning it to a resting state. This process of
removing the sodium ions from the cell often causes the neuron to
become hyperpolarized; this means that the cell is more negative than its
normal resting potential (e.g., −72 mV instead of −70 mV). This additional
negativity makes the cell less likely to fire. It normally takes 2–3
milliseconds for the membrane to adjust back to its normal resting
potential. This brief period in which a neuron cannot fire is known as a
refractory period .
When the action potential reaches the axon terminal, it triggers the
release of that cell’s neurotransmitters, a process that allows it to
influence the firing of other neurons. This stage of the action potential
takes place in the synapse , an area consisting of a neuron’s axon terminals

and a different neuron’s dendrites; these structures are separated by a
microscopic space into which neurotransmitters can be released. The
presynaptic cell  is the neuron that releases its neurotransmitters into the
synapse. The postsynaptic cell  is the neuron that receives
neurotransmitters from the presynaptic cell. The dendrites of the

postsynaptic cell contain specialized receptors that are designed to hold
specific molecules, including neurotransmitters. Then, this process of
neural communication will begin again.
Although this description of an action potential explains how a neuron

fires, it does not explain how the nervous system differentiates between a
weak and a strong neural response. It would make intuitive sense for a
stronger stimulus (e.g., a loud noise) to produce a larger action potential

than a weak stimulus (e.g., someone whispering); however, this is not the
case. When stimulated, a given neuron always fires at the same intensity
and speed. This activity adheres to the all-or-none principle : Individual

nerve cells fire at the same strength every time an action potential occurs.
Neurons do not “sort of” fire, or “overfire”—they just fire. Instead, the
strength of a sensation is determined by the rate at which nerve cells fire
as well as by the number of nerve cells that are stimulated. A stimulus is
experienced intensely because a greater number of cells are stimulated,

and the firing of each cell occurs repeatedly.
Watch Neurotransmitters
The Chemical Messengers:
Neurotransmitters and Hormones
As you read in the first part of this module, the presynaptic neuron releases
neurotransmitters into the synapse; a fraction of these neurotransmitters
will bind to receptors on the postsynaptic neuron. This binding can have
one of two effects on the postsynaptic cell. If the actions of a
neurotransmitter cause the neuron’s membrane potential to become less

negative (e.g., changing from −70 mV to −68 mV), it is referred to as
excitatory because it has increased the probability that an action potential
will occur in a given period of time. In contrast, if the actions of a
neurotransmitter cause the membrane potential to become more negative
(e.g., changing from −70 mV to −72 mV), it is referred to as inhibitory

because it has decreased the likelihood that an action potential will occur.
An important factor in determining whether a postsynaptic neuron is
excited or inhibited is the type of neurotransmitter(s) binding with its
receptors.
Many types of neurotransmitters have been identified, although most

neurons send and receive a limited number of these substances. Each
neurotransmitter typically has its own unique molecular shape. A lock-
and-key analogy is sometimes used to explain how neurotransmitters and
their receptors work: When neurotransmitters are released at the axon
terminal, they cross the synapse and fit in a particular receptor of the
dendrite like a key in a lock (see Figure 3.13 ).

Figure 3.13 The Lock-and-Key Analogy for Matching of Neurotransmitters and Receptors
The molecular structures of different neurotransmitters must have specific

shapes in order to bind with the receptors on a neuron.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J., Namy, L. L., & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From Inquiry to
Understanding, Books A La Carte Edition, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced
by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
After neurotransmitter molecules have bound to postsynaptic receptors of
a neighbouring cell, they are released back into the synaptic cleft , the
minute space between the axon terminal (terminal button) and the dendrite.
This process is almost as important as the action potential itself.
Prolonged stimulation of the receptors makes it more difficult for the cell
to return to its resting potential; this is obviously necessary for the neuron
to be able to fire again. Therefore, if a neurotransmitter remained latched

onto a receptor for long periods of time, it would decrease the number of
times that the neurons could fire (i.e., it would make your brain less
powerful).
Once neurotransmitters have detached from the receptors and float back
into the synapse, they are either broken down by enzymes or go through
reuptake , a process whereby neurotransmitter molecules that have been
released into the synapse are reabsorbed into the axon terminals of the
presynaptic neuron (see Figure 3.14 ). Reuptake serves as a sort of natural
recycling system for neurotransmitters. It is also a process that is modified

by many commonly used drugs. For example, the class of antidepressant
drugs known as selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), not

surprisingly, inhibits reuptake of the neurotransmitter serotonin; in this
way, SSRIs such as fluoxetine (Prozac) eventually increase the amount of

serotonin available at the synapse. The result is a decrease in depression
and anxiety (see Module 16.3 ). The process of reuptake occurs for a
number of different neurotransmitters released throughout the nervous

system.
Figure 3.14 Major Events at the Synapse
As the action potential reaches the axon terminals, neurotransmitters

(packed into spherically shaped vesicles) are released across the synaptic
cleft. The neurotransmitters bind to the postsynaptic (receiving) neuron.
In the process of reuptake, some neurotransmitters are returned to the
presynaptic neuron via reuptake proteins. These neurotransmitters are
then repackaged into synaptic vesicles.
Types of Neurotransmitters
There are literally dozens of neurotransmitters influencing the
functioning of your brain as you read this module. The various
neurotransmitters listed in Table 3.1  are only a small sample of the
chemicals that produce your behaviour. Each of these neurotransmitters
has a unique molecular structure and is designed to match particular

types of receptors, similar to how different keys will fit into different
locks. These substances also differ in terms of the specific brain areas they
target. As a result, different neurotransmitters will have different effects
on our behaviour.
The most common neurotransmitters in the brain are glutamate and
GABA. Glutamate  is the most common excitatory neurotransmitter in the
brains of vertebrates (Dingledine et al., 1999; Meldrum, 2000). It is
involved in a number of processes, including our ability to form new
memories (Bliss & Collingridge, 1993; Peng et al., 2011). Abnormal

functioning of glutamate-releasing neurons has also been implicated in a
number of brain disorders, including the triggering of seizures in epilepsy
(During & Spencer, 1993) and damage caused by strokes (Hazell, 2007;
McCulloch et al., 1991). In contrast, GABA (gamma-amino butyric
acid , for those of you enraged by acronyms) is the primary inhibitory
neurotransmitter of the nervous system, meaning that it prevents neurons from
generating action potentials. It accomplishes this feat by reducing the
negative charge of neighbouring neurons even further than their resting
state of −70 mV. When GABA binds to receptors, it causes an influx of

negatively charged ions such as chloride to enter the cell, which is the
opposite net effect of what happens when a neuron is stimulated. As an
inhibitor, GABA facilitates sleep (Tobler et al., 2001) and reduces arousal
of the nervous system. Low levels of GABA have been linked to epilepsy,
likely because there is an imbalance between inhibitory GABA and
excitatory glutamate (Upton, 1994).
Another common neurotransmitter is acetylcholine. Acetylcholine  is
one of the most widespread neurotransmitters within the body, found at the
junctions between nerve cells and skeletal muscles; it is very important for
voluntary movement. Acetylcholine released from neurons connected to
the spinal cord binds to receptors on muscles. The change in the electrical
properties of the muscle fibres leads to a contraction of that muscle. This
link between the nervous system and muscles is known as a
neuromuscular junction. A number of animals release venom that
influences the release of acetylcholine, including the black widow spider
(Diaz, 2004) and a number of snakes. Recall the neurotoxic snake venom
discussed at the beginning of this module: This toxin disrupts the activity
of acetylcholine transmission at the neuromuscular junctions.
In addition to these effects in neuromuscular junctions, acetylcholine

activity in the brain is associated with attention and memory (Drachman
& Leavitt, 1974; Himmelheber et al., 2000). Altered levels of this

neurotransmitter have also been linked to cognitive deficits associated
with aging and Alzheimer’s disease (Bartus et al., 1982; Craig et al.,
2011). Indeed, several drugs used to reduce the progression of
Alzheimer’s disease are designed to slow the removal of acetylcholine

from the synapse, thus allowing it to have a larger effect on postsynaptic
cells (Darvesh et al., 2003). The fact that acetylcholine can influence
functions ranging from movement to memory shows us that where in the

nervous system a neurotransmitter is released can have a dramatic
influence on what roles that neurotransmitter will serve.

This point is particularly noticeable when one discusses a class of
neurotransmitters known as the monoamines. This group of brain
chemicals includes the well-known neurotransmitters dopamine,

norepinephrine, and serotonin. Dopamine  is a monoamine
neurotransmitter involved in such varied functions as mood, control of

voluntary movement, and processing of rewarding experiences. When reading
this definition, you can’t help but be stunned by the variety of processes
influenced by dopamine. This breadth is due to the fact that dopamine is
released by neurons in (at least) three pathways extending to different
parts of the brain, including areas in the centre of the brain related to
movement and to reward responses (Koob & Volkow, 2010; Martinez &
Narendren, 2010; see Module 5.3 ) and areas in the front third of the
brain involved with controlling our attention (Robbins, 2000).
Attention is also influenced by our overall alertness or arousal, a
characteristic that is affected by the neurotransmitter norepinephrine.

Norepinephrine  (also known as noradrenaline) is a monoamine
synthesized from dopamine molecules that is involved in regulating stress

responses, including increasing arousal, attention, and heart rate.
Norepinephrine is formed in specialized nuclei in the bottom of the brain
(known as the brainstem) and projects throughout the rest of the brain,
influencing the activity of a number of systems ranging from wakefulness
to attention (Berridge & Waterhouse, 2003). It also projects down the

spinal cord and serves as part of the “fight-or-flight” response to
threatening stimuli. Norepinephrine often works alongside epinephrine 

(also known as adrenaline), a hormone and neurotransmitter created in the
adrenal gland on the kidneys. Both norepinephrine and epinephrine

energize individuals to help them become more engaged with a given
activity. (Interesting trivia: Epinephrine has its name because the name
adrenaline was trademarked by a drug company.)
Finally, serotonin  is a monoamine involved in regulating mood, sleep,
aggression, and appetite (Cappadocia et al., 2009; Young & Leyton, 2002).
It is formed in the brainstem and projects throughout the brain and spinal
cord. Serotonin is the neurotransmitter that you are most likely to have
heard of due to its critical role in depression. As discussed earlier in this
module, many antidepressant medications block the reuptake of

serotonin, thus ensuring that this substance remains in the synapse for
longer durations. The result is an elevation of mood and a decrease in
symptoms of depression and anxiety.
Throughout this section, we have noted that medications (or other

substances) can influence the levels of these neurotransmitters as well as
how efficiently they bind to their targets. But, as you will see, not all
drugs affect neurotransmission in the same way.
Table 3.1 Neurotransmitters and their Functions

Drug Effects on Neurotransmission
Drugs of all varieties, from prescription to recreational, affect the
chemical signalling that takes place between nerve cells. Agonists  are
drugs that enhance or mimic the effects of a neurotransmitter’s action (see
Figure 3.15 ). The well-known drug nicotine is an acetylcholine agonist,
meaning that it stimulates the receptor sites for this neurotransmitter. The
antianxiety drug alprazolam (Xanax) is a GABA agonist—it causes
relaxation by increasing the activity of this inhibitory neurotransmitter.
Drugs can behave as agonists either directly or indirectly. A drug that
behaves as a direct agonist physically binds to that neurotransmitter’s
receptors at the postsynaptic cells (e.g., nicotine molecules attach

themselves to receptors that acetylcholine molecules would normally
stimulate). A drug that acts as an indirect agonist facilitates the effects of a
neurotransmitter, but does not physically bind to the same part of the
receptor as the neurotransmitter. For example, a drug that blocks the
process of reuptake would be an indirect agonist. A drug that attaches to

another binding site on a receptor but does not interfere with the
neurotransmitter’s binding would also be an indirect agonist.
Figure 3.15 Drug Effects at the Synapses

Drugs can act as agonists by facilitating the effects of a neurotransmitter,
or as antagonists by blocking these effects.
Drugs classified as antagonists  inhibit neurotransmitter activity by
blocking receptors or preventing synthesis of a neurotransmitter. You may

have heard of the cosmetic medical procedure known as a Botox
injection. Botox, which is derived from the nerve-paralyzing bacterium

that causes botulism, blocks the action of acetylcholine by binding to its
postsynaptic receptor sites (Dastoor et al., 2007). Blocking acetylcholine

could lead to paralysis of the heart and lungs; however, when very small
amounts are injected into tissue around the eyes, the antagonist simply
paralyzes the muscles that lead to wrinkles. When muscles are not used,
they cannot stretch the skin—hence the reduction in wrinkling when
acetylcholine activity is blocked. Because Botox directly binds with

acetylcholine receptors and thus prevents acetylcholine from doing so, it
is considered a direct antagonist. If a chemical reduces the influence of a

neurotransmitter without physically blocking the receptor, it would be
classified as an indirect antagonist.
Botox injections paralyze muscles, which can increase youthful

appearance in areas such as the face. It is a direct antagonist for
acetylcholine.
Thinkstock/Stockbyte/Getty Images
Review Applying the Concepts of Drug Agonists and Antagonists

Hormones and the Endocrine System
Neurotransmitters are not the body’s only chemical messenger system.
Hormones  are chemicals secreted by the glands of the endocrine system.
Generally, neurotransmitters work almost immediately within the
microscopic space of the synapse, whereas hormones are secreted into
the bloodstream and travel throughout the body. Thus, the effects of
hormones are much slower than those of neurotransmitters. With help
from the nervous system, the endocrine system contributes to homeostasis
—the balance of energy, metabolism, body temperature, and other basic
functions that keeps the body working properly (see Figure 3.16 ; see
Module 11.1 ). In other words, the brain triggers activity in the
endocrine system that then influences the brain’s activity via hormones.
This cycle continues as our brain and body attempt to maintain the
appropriate energy levels for dealing with the environment.
Figure 3.16 The Endocrine System

Glands throughout the body release and exchange hormones. The
hypothalamus interacts with the endocrine system to regulate hormonal
processes.
Understanding, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted And Electronically Reproduced By Permission Of
Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
The brain area that is critical for this brain-endocrine relationship is the
hypothalamus , a brain structure that regulates basic biological needs and

motivational systems. The hypothalamus releases specialized chemicals
called releasing factors that stimulate the pituitary gland —the master
gland of the endocrine system that produces hormones and sends commands
about hormone production to the other glands of the endocrine system. These
hormones can be released by glands throughout the body before finding
their way to the brain via the bloodstream.
How we respond to stress illustrates nicely how the nervous and

endocrine systems influence each other. In psychological terms, stress is
loosely defined as an imbalance between perceived demands and the
perceived resources available to meet those demands. Such an imbalance

might occur if you suddenly realize your midterm exam is tomorrow at
8:00 AM. Your resources—time and energy—may not be enough to meet
the demand of succeeding on the exam. The hypothalamus, however, sets

chemical events in motion that physically prepare the body for stress. It
signals the pituitary gland to release a hormone into the bloodstream that
in turn stimulates the adrenal glands , a pair of endocrine glands located
adjacent to the kidneys that release stress hormones, such as cortisol and
epinephrine. Cortisol and epinephrine help mobilize the body during
stress, thus providing enough energy for you to deal with the sudden
increase in activity necessary to respond to the stress-inducing situation

Another important chemical is endorphin , a hormone produced by the
pituitary gland and the hypothalamus that functions to reduce pain and induce
feelings of pleasure. Endorphins are released into the bloodstream during
events such as strenuous exercise, sexual activity, or injury. They act on

portions of the brain that are attuned to reward, reinforcement, and
pleasure, inhibiting the perception of pain and increasing feelings of

euphoria (extreme pleasantness and relaxation). Morphine—a drug
derived from the poppy plant—binds to endorphin receptors (the term
endorphin translates to endogenous [internal] morphine). Morphine

molecules fit into the same receptor sites as endorphins and, therefore,
produce the same painkilling and euphoric effects.

Extracts from the seeds of some poppy flowers contain opium. Morphine
and one of its derivatives, heroin, can be synthesized from these seeds.
Martin Nemec/Shutterstock
The final hormone that will be discussed is perhaps the best known.
Testosterone  is a hormone that serves multiple functions, including driving

physical and sexual development over the long term. Testosterone levels also
surge during sexual activity. However, as you will read in the next
section, these are not testosterone’s only functions.
Testosterone and Aggression
Testosterone is one of the main sex hormones produced by the
body. In men, it is produced by specialized cells in the testes; in

women, it is produced in the ovaries. It can also be secreted by
the adrenal cortex on the kidneys (Mazur & Booth, 1998).
Because it is related to male sexual development and functioning,
this hormone was traditionally targeted as an explanation for why

men tend to be more physically aggressive than women. In other
words, there was an assumption that testosterone causes
aggression. Scientific studies paint a slightly more complex
picture.
What do we know about testosterone and

aggression?
There is a large body of research linking testosterone and
aggression. In one experiment, researchers castrated a group of
mice, an experience that obviously reduced their testosterone

levels. The castrated mice as well as a control group of healthy
mice then encountered an aggressive mouse. Although this type
of interaction would usually lead to physical fights, the castrated
mice showed almost no aggressive response (Beeman, 1947).
However, when castrated mice received an injection of
testosterone prior to the interaction, they did respond
aggressively. This study suggested a causal link between

testosterone and aggression. Human research also indicates a
similar relationship. High testosterone levels were associated
with a history of violent crime (e.g., murder, armed robbery) in
both male and female prisoners (Dabbs et al., 1995; Dabbs &
Hargrove, 1997). Prisoners who were jailed for less violent crimes
had lower testosterone levels. Thus, both animal and human
research has historically shown some link between testosterone
and aggression.
How can science explain the relationship

between testosterone and aggression?
Scientific studies show that the relationship between testosterone
and aggression is more specific than was once thought.
Testosterone appears to be involved with social aggression and
dominance rather than with non-social forms of aggression such
as hunting or responding to attacks (Eisenegger et al., 2011).

Dominance involves an individual striving for or attempting to
maintain a high social status. In animals, such a status is often
linked with increased access to food and potential mates. In many
primate species such as rhesus monkeys, dominance is achieved
non-violently through stares, threatening body language, and

shouts rather than through physical contact (Higley et al., 1996).
It is also associated with higher testosterone levels. In studies
with human participants, socially dominant adolescents and

adults tended to have higher levels of testosterone (Carré et al.,
2009; Rowe et al., 2004).
Testosterone also increased when participants perceived a

potential threat to their status. Chimpanzees who anticipate
competing for access to food show an elevated testosterone
response (Wobber et al., 2010). In humans, several studies have

found that competition was linked with increased testosterone,
with activities ranging from wrestling and tennis to chess (Booth

et al., 1989; Mazur et al., 1992)! Importantly, higher testosterone
levels were found for winners than for losers, again suggesting a
link between this hormone and social dominance (Oliveira et al.,

2009).
Can we critically evaluate this research?

One concern with many of these studies is that they are
correlational. As you read in Module 2.2 , correlational designs
show a relationship between two variables but cannot be used to

state that one causes the other. For instance, it is impossible to
say if winning led to an increase in testosterone or if players with

higher testosterone levels were more likely to win. In order to
deal with this concern, some researchers have manipulated the

competitions so that one player or the other wins. The results of
these studies showed that winning leads to an increase in

testosterone (e.g., Schultheiss et al., 2005).
Another question that arises is how does testosterone actually

affect behaviour? What does testosterone do to allow people and
animals to become (or feel) more socially dominant? Several

studies suggest that injections of testosterone lead to less socially
minded behaviour (Eisenegger et al., 2011). For instance, in most

situations, people tend to subtly mimic the facial expressions of
others; this makes the other person feel like they are being
understood and increases social bonds. Researchers have found

that injections of testosterone decrease facial mimicry (Hermans
et al., 2006). Participants who have received testosterone are also

more aware of potential threats. When you perceive a happy face,
it does not likely cause any alarm. The same is true for people
who have received an injection of testosterone (see Figure
3.17 ). However, when these same individuals view an angry

face—which is a potential threat—their heart rate increases much
more than the heart rates of control participants (van Honk et al.,
2001). Together, these studies suggest that testosterone alters
behaviours that would promote social bonding, thus making the
individual more likely to respond with social aggression.
Figure 3.17 Testosterone and Social Threat
Individuals who received an injection of testosterone showed

much larger heart rate responses to threatening faces than did
control participants. The groups did not differ when viewing non-
threatening happy faces.
Source: Republished with permission of Elsevier Science, Inc., from Eisenegger, C.,
Haushofer, J., & Fehr, E. (2011). The role of testosterone in social interaction. Trends in
Cognitive Sciences 15(6), by. Permission conveyed through Copyright Clearance Center,
Inc.

These studies demonstrate that testosterone is not simply related
to aggression. Instead, it is related to social aggression. Although
this still means that this hormone could be linked with violent
crime (which is, in some ways, a form of dominance), social
dominance also has an evolutionary purpose. Dominant
individuals are more likely to survive (and therefore reproduce)

in many species. They would receive better food and access to
mates. They would also experience less stress caused by attacks
from dominant members of the group. Therefore, although we
don’t think of social aggression as being as a good thing,
testosterone likely helped our ancestors to survive while others

did not.
Neurons in Context
When reading about neuronal structures, neurotransmitters, and
hormones, it is easy to lose sight of how these cells and molecules fit
together with discussions of genetics (Module 3.1 ) and larger brain
structures (Module 3.3 ). In the last few years, a number of genes related
to different neurotransmitters have been identified. These genes can

influence how the neurotransmitters are formed as well as processes such
as reuptake. These seemingly minor differences in genes can affect
neurotransmitter levels and thus how neurons communicate with each
other. This alters the networks of neurons firing together in the brain;
these networks of structures produce your thoughts, movements, and

sensations. So, while a discussion of brain cells seems far removed from
the science of behaviour, these brain cells are, in fact, what makes you
“you.”
Module 3.2 Summary
3.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with nerve cells,

hormones, and their functioning.
Review Module 3.2
3.2b Understand . . . how nerve cells communicate.
Nerve cells fire because of processes involving both electrical and
chemical factors. A stimulated nerve cell goes from resting potential to

action potential following an influx of positively charged ions inside the
membrane of the cell. As the message reaches the end of the nerve cell,
neurotransmitters are released into synapses and bind to neighbouring
postsynaptic cells. Depending on the type of neurotransmitter, the effect
can be either inhibitory or excitatory.
3.2c Understand . . . the ways that drugs and other substances

affect the brain.
Drugs can be agonists or antagonists. A drug is an agonist if it enhances

the effects of a neurotransmitter. This outcome occurs if the drug
increases the release of a neurotransmitter, blocks reuptake, or mimics
the neurotransmitter by binding to the postsynaptic cell. A drug is an
antagonist if it blocks the effects of a neurotransmitter. Antagonists block
neurotransmitter release, break down neurotransmitters in the synapse,
or block neurotransmitters by binding to postsynaptic receptors.
3.2d Understand . . . the roles that hormones play in our

behaviour.
Hormones have multiple influences on behaviour. The nervous system—

in particular, the hypothalamus—interacts with the endocrine system in
controlling the release of hormones. A few of humans’ many hormonally

controlled responses include reactions to stress and pain as well as sexual
responses. Some hormones are associated with, though not necessarily a

primary cause of, aggressive behaviour.
3.2e Apply . . . your knowledge of neurotransmitters to

understand how they relate to common diseases and
psychological disorders.
Apply Activity
On the left side of Table 3.2 , we have listed several diseases and clinical
symptoms. Please indicate which neurotransmitter is most likely involved
with each condition. The potential answers are: acetylcholine, dopamine,

glutamate, GABA, norepinephrine, and serotonin.
Table 3.2 Match the Neurotransmitter to the Clinical Condition
3.2f Analyze . . . the claim that we are born with all the nerve
cells we will ever have.
Earlier in this module, a Myths in Mind  feature addressed the question
of whether we are born with all of the nerve cells we will ever have.
Although scientists once believed this to be true, we now know that
neurogenesis—the growth of new neurons—takes place in several parts of
the brain. One of these regions is the hippocampus, which is involved in

learning and memory, anxiety and stress responses, and the inhibition of
behaviour (see Module 7.1 ).

Module 3.3 Structure and
Organization of the Nervous System
Montreal Neurological Hospital and Institute
3.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with the structure and
organization of the nervous system.
3.3b Understand . . . how studies of split-brain patients reveal the
workings of the brain.
3.3c Apply . . . your knowledge of brain regions to predict which
abilities might be affected when a specific area is injured or

diseased.
3.3d Analyze . . . whether neuroplasticity will help people with brain
damage.
The story has become something of a legend in neuroscience: Dr. Wilder
Penfield, a doctor at the Montreal Neurological Institute, was
electrically stimulating different parts of a woman’s brain prior to her
surgery to remove the brain tissue causing her seizures. In addition to
mapping out the location of important brain areas such as those related
to language, Penfield was also hoping to stimulate sensations similar to
those experienced by the patient just prior to the onset of her seizures.
(In this case, the sensation was the smell of burnt toast.) This
information would provide insights into where in the brain her seizures
were beginning. After one electrical stimulation, the patient reported
that she could see wonderful lights. After another electrical burst, she
asked if Dr. Penfield had poured cold water on her hand. Finally,
according to legend, the patient said, “Dr. Penfield! I can smell burnt
toast!”
In addition to showing us that early brain researchers were part

scientist and part detective, this story makes an important point about
the organization of the brain: Different parts of the brain are related to
different functions, including sensations, memories, and emotions. In

this module, we will discuss many of the important brain regions
related to the biology of behaviour.
In this module, we translate our knowledge of nerve cells into an

understanding of how they work as an integrated system. This section is
rich with terminology and can be challenging. As you read through it, try
to think about how the different parts of the nervous system apply to your
own behaviour and experiences. Doing so will help you remember the
terms, and will also show you that many different parts of your nervous
system interact when you perform even the simplest of behaviours.
Divisions of the Nervous System
Think about it: billions of cells work together to let you have a
personality, feel emotions, dance, enjoy music, and remember all of the
ups and downs you experience in life. In addition to these voluntary
activities, the nervous system is also involved in a number of involuntary
processes like controlling your heart rate, blinking, and breathing. Given
these diverse functions, it shouldn’t be surprising to hear that the nervous
system has a number of divisions that allow these processes to take place
seamlessly. We begin our exploration of the nervous system by
examining the most basic of these distinctions—the difference between
the central and peripheral nervous systems.

The Central Nervous System
Look up from this page and examine the objects around you. What are
they? Can you use words to describe them? How would you use them?
Your ability to think up answers to these questions involves different
parts of your central nervous system. The central nervous system
(CNS)  consists of the brain and the spinal cord (see Figure 3.18 ). The
human brain is perhaps the most complex entity known. Its capacity to
store information is almost limitless. Your personality, preferences,
memories, and conscious awareness are all packed into this three-pound
structure made up of approximately 100 billion individual neurons. The
other part of the CNS, the spinal cord, runs from your neck down to the
base of your spine. The spinal cord receives information from the brain
and stimulates nerves that extend out into the body; this stimulation
produces movements. It also receives information from sensory nerves in
the body and transmits it back to the brain (or, in the case of reflexes,
organizes rapid movements without the help of the brain). These two
structures are critical for our survival. But our ability to move and to
sense the outside world would be impossible without another major
division of the nervous system.
Watch Spinal Cord Reflex

Figure 3.18 The Organization of the Nervous System
The nervous system can be divided into several components, each with a
specific set of structures and functions.
The Peripheral Nervous System
Run your fingers along the side of the chair that you are sitting in. Now,
move your hands so that your index fingers are touching each other. In
both of these instances, you are sending information from your central
nervous system to the nerves in the rest of your body that control
movement. You are also receiving sensory input from your body as you
interact with your environment. These processes are performed by the
peripheral nervous system (PNS) , a division of the nervous system that
transmits signals between the brain and the rest of the body and is divided into
two subcomponents: the somatic system and the autonomic system (see Figure
3.19 ). The somatic nervous system  consists of nerves that control
skeletal muscles, which are responsible for voluntary and reflexive movement; it
also consists of nerves that receive sensory input from the body. This would be
the division of the PNS that is active when you feel the edge of a chair or
move your hands. Any voluntary behaviour, such as coordinating the
movements needed to reach, walk, or move a computer mouse, makes

use of the somatic nervous system.
Figure 3.19 The Autonomic Nervous System

The sympathetic and parasympathetic divisions of the autonomic nervous
system control and regulate responses of the glands and organs of the
body.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S., Namy, L. L., & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From Inquiry to
Understanding, Books A La Carte Edition, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted and Electronically
reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
But not all behaviours are voluntary. For example, it is unlikely that you
can make your heart race or your palms sweat. Responses such as these
are often automatic, occurring outside of our conscious control. These
behaviours are performed by the autonomic nervous system , the

portion of the peripheral nervous system responsible for regulating the activity
of organs and glands. This system includes two subcomponents: one that
increases our ability to make rapid responses, and one that helps us
return to normal levels of emotional arousal. The sympathetic nervous
system  is responsible for the fight-or-flight response of an increased heart

rate, dilated pupils, and decreased salivary flow—responses that prepare the
body for action. If you hear footsteps behind you as you are walking alone
or if you barely avoid an accident while driving, then you will experience
sympathetic arousal. In this process, blood is directed toward your skeletal
muscles, heart rate and perspiration increase, and digestive processes are
slowed; each of these responses helps to direct energy where it is most
needed in case you need to respond. However, if you remained in this

heightened state of emotional arousal, you would quickly run out of
energy resources. It is therefore important for you to have a system in

place that allows your body to quickly return to normal levels of energy
use. The parasympathetic nervous system  helps maintain homeostatic

balance in the presence of change; following sympathetic arousal, it works to
return the body to a baseline, non-emergency state. Generally speaking, the

parasympathetic nervous system does the opposite of what the
sympathetic nervous system does (see Figure 3.19 ).
So, if you thought you saw a snake beside your foot (CNS), you would
have a sympathetic nervous system (PNS) response that would increase

your heart rate and would send blood toward your leg muscles. Your
brain (CNS) would initiate a movement and send that order down the
spinal cord (CNS), where it would project out from spinal nerves (PNS)
that influence the activity of muscles. Sensory feedback (PNS) from the
skin and muscles would travel back to the spinal cord (CNS) and up to
the brain (CNS). After some time had passed and you realized that it was
actually a stick, not a snake (CNS), your parasympathetic nervous system
(PNS) would help you calm down so that you were no longer frightened
and no longer using up all of your energy responding to this stimulus.

Although these different parts of the PNS and CNS clearly influence a
number of our responses, many of the functions of the PNS are relatively
simple. Most of our complex behaviours, including our ability to think

and reason, is directed by the brain, a stunningly complex structure made
up of hundreds of smaller parts. Therefore, the rest of this module will
focus on explaining how the different parts of this biological marvel

function, alone and in larger networks.
The Brain and Its Structures
The brain is divided into two cerebral hemispheres , nearly symmetrical

halves of the brain that contain the same structures, although there are some
small differences in the size of these brain areas (Springer & Deutsch,
1998). Within each hemisphere, the structures of the brain are organized
in a hierarchical fashion. The human brain, as well as that of other

animals, can be subdivided into three main regions: the hindbrain, the
midbrain, and the forebrain (Table 3.3 ). This system of dividing the
brain may tempt you to view it as a mass of separate compartments. Keep
in mind that the entire brain is composed of highly integrated circuitry
and feedback loops. In other words, although the forebrain may perform
complex thinking processes, like decision making, its activity is influenced

by (and influences) structures in the midbrain and the hindbrain.
Table 3.3 Major Brain Regions, Structures, and Their Functions

The Hindbrain: Sustaining the Body
The hindbrain consists of structures that are critical to controlling basic,
life-sustaining processes. At the top of the spinal cord is a region called
the brainstem , which is the “stem” or bottom of the brain and consists of two
structures: the medulla and the pons (Figure 3.20 ). Nerve cells in the
medulla connect with the body to perform basic functions such as

regulating breathing, heart rate, sneezing, salivating, and even vomiting—
all those actions your body does with little conscious control on your
part. The fact that the medulla can control all of these activities without
us consciously controlling our responses is important—without this
ability, our lives would consist of nothing more than sending signals to
various organs to ensure that we stayed alive. The pons contributes to
general levels of wakefulness and also appears to have a role in dreaming
(see Module 5.1 ). Due to its connections to other structures in the brain
and spinal cord, the pons is also part of a number of networks including
those that control balance, eye movements, and swallowing (Nolte,

1999).
Figure 3.20 The Hindbrain and Midbrain

Structures in the hindbrain are responsible for basic functions that sustain
the body. The midbrain includes structures that control basic sensory
responses and voluntary movement.
An additional hindbrain structure, the reticular formation , extends from
the medulla upwards to the midbrain (described shortly) and is involved with
attention and alertness. When you wake up in the morning, you can thank
(in part) your reticular formation. This structure also communicates with
cells in the spinal cord involved with movements related to walking and
posture.
The structures in the hindbrain are able to influence a number of

behaviours through their connections to other parts of the brain and
spinal cord. They also have dense connections with another hindbrain
structure, the cerebellum. The cerebellum  (Latin for “little brain”) is the
lobe-like structure at the base of the brain that is involved in the monitoring of
movement, maintaining balance, attention, and emotional responses. The

cerebellum’s role in movement has been known for almost two centuries
(Flourens, 1824; Schmahmann, 2004). Damage to this structure leads to

uncoordinated and jerky movements that interfere with walking, posture,
and most limb movements. These symptoms suggest that the cerebellum
is involved with coordinating and timing ongoing movements rather than
with generating responses on its own (Yamazaki & Tanaka, 2009).
However, recent research indicates that these timing functions extend

beyond movement. Patients with damage to the cerebellum have
difficulty controlling their attention (Schweizer, Oriet, et al., 2007). They

also have problems with emotional control, including personality changes
and impulsivity, a set of symptoms now known as the cognitive affective

behavioural syndrome (Schmahmann & Sherman, 1998). The cerebellum is
likely able to influence this wide variety of functions because it has dense
connections to a number of areas in the forebrain as well as to

evolutionarily older structures in the base of the brain like the
hypothalamus, a structure related to the autonomic nervous system

(Stoodley & Schmahmann, 2010; Zhu et al., 2006). Through these
connections, the so-called “little brain” is able to have a big effect on

behaviour.
The Midbrain: Sensation and Action
The cerebellum is not the only neural region involved with both
movement and attention. The midbrain , which resides just above the
hindbrain, primarily functions as a relay station between sensory and motor
areas (Figure 3.20 ). For example, have you ever detected a sudden
movement out of the corner of your eye? This ability to capture your
visual attention is influenced by the superior colliculus (plural colliculi). Of
course, your ability to orient your attention is not limited to visual stimuli.
How do you respond when someone’s phone rings in class? You, quite
naturally, pay attention to that new sound and turn your head toward its
source (while mentally judging the person’s ringtone). This ability to

move your auditory attention is influenced by another midbrain structure,
the inferior colliculus (plural colliculi).
Like the hindbrain, structures in the midbrain do not act as independent
units; rather, they are part of much larger networks. This concept is
powerfully illustrated by the substantia nigra. This midbrain area has
connections to structures in the forebrain (to be discussed shortly); this
network of dopamine-releasing cells is involved with the control of
movements. Parkinson’s disease —a condition marked by major
impairments in voluntary movement—is caused by a loss of the dopamine-
producing cells in this network.

The Forebrain: Emotion, Memory, and
Thought
The forebrain , the most visibly obvious region of the brain, consists of all of
the neural structures that are located above the midbrain, including all of the
folds and grooves on the outer surface of the brain; the multiple interconnected
structures in the forebrain are critical to such complex processes as emotion,
memory, thinking, and reasoning. The forebrain also contains spaces called
ventricles (Figure 3.21 ). Although the ventricles appear hollow, they are
filled with cerebrospinal fluid, a solution that helps to eliminate wastes
and provides nutrition and hormones to the brain and spinal cord.
Cerebrospinal fluid also cushions the brain from impact against the skull.
Figure 3.21 The Cerebral Ventricles

Four ventricles in the brain contain cerebrospinal fluid. This provides
nutrition and cushioning for many parts of the brain.
Source: Carlson, N. R. (2013). Physiology of Behaviour, 11th ed., ©2013, pp. 29, 72. Reprinted and
electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., Upper Saddle River, New
Jersey.
Sitting next to the ventricles are the basal ganglia , a group of three
structures that are involved in facilitating planned movements, skill learning,
and integrating sensory and movement information with the brain’s reward
system (Figure 3.22 ). The basal ganglia form networks that promote and
inhibit movements. These two networks interact to allow us to have our
different muscles work together in the correct sequence rather than
having them “flex” at random times. People who are very practised at a
specific motor skill, such as playing an instrument or a sport, have

actually modified their basal ganglia through practice to better coordinate
engaging in the activity (Yarrow et al., 2009). Improper functioning of the
basal ganglia can lead to movement disorders like Parkinson’s disease
and Huntington’s disease, a condition involving uncontrollable movements
of the body, head, and face. The basal ganglia are also affected in people
who have Tourette’s syndrome —a condition marked by erratic and
repetitive facial and muscle movements (called tics), heavy eye blinking, and
frequent noise making such as grunting, snorting, or sniffing. The excess
dopamine that appears to be transmitted within the basal ganglia

contributes to many of the classic Tourette’s symptoms (Baym et al.,
2008). Incidentally, contrary to popular belief, the shouting of obscenities

(coprolalia) is actually relatively uncommon in people with Tourette’s
syndrome.
Figure 3.22 The Basal Ganglia

The basal ganglia function in both voluntary movement and responses to
rewarding stimuli.
Some parts of the basal ganglia are also involved in emotion, particularly
experiences of pleasure and reward (Berridge et al., 2009). These
structures respond to different types of rewards including tasty foods like

chocolate (Small et al., 2003) and monetary rewards (Elliott et al., 2003).
They also form a network with a nearby structure—the nucleus accumbens

—whose activity accompanies many kinds of pleasurable experiences,
including sexual excitement and satisfying a food craving (Avena et al.,

2008). As you will read in Module 5.3 , this basal ganglia–nucleus
accumbens network is also related to the pleasurable effects caused by
some drugs (Uchimura & North, 1990).
Another major set of forebrain structures comprises the limbic system ,

an integrated network involved in emotion and memory (Maclean, 1952; see
Figure 3.23 ). One key structure in the limbic system is the amygdala ,
which facilitates memory formation for emotional events, mediates fear
responses, and appears to play a role in recognizing and interpreting emotional
stimuli, including facial expressions. In addition, the amygdala connects
with structures in the nervous system that are responsible for adaptive
fear responses such as freezing in position when a possible threat is
detected; it is also connected to areas responsible for attention, which is
why you usually notice when a spider is on your wall. Just below the
amygdala is another limbic structure called the hippocampus (Greek for
“seahorse”—something it physically resembles if you’ve had a few drinks).
The hippocampus  is critical for learning and memory, particularly the
formation of new memories (Squire et al., 2007; see Module 7.1 ).
Figure 3.23 The Limbic System
Structures in the limbic system include the hypothalamus, hippocampus,

and amygdala, which play roles in regulating motivation, memory, and
emotion.
Understanding, Books A La Carte Edition, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted and Electronically
You already encountered the hypothalamus in Modules 3.2  when you

read about its relationship to the endocrine system, and you will
encounter it again in Module 11.1  when you read about its influence on
the regulation of hunger and thirst and in Module 11.2  when you read
about its influence on sexual behaviours. The hypothalamus serves as a
sort of thermostat, maintaining the appropriate body temperature, and it
regulates drives such as aggression and sex by interacting with the

endocrine system. In fact, regions of the hypothalamus trigger orgasm for
both females and males (Meston et al., 2004; Peeters & Giuliano, 2007).
Direct electrical stimulation of parts of the hypothalamus can produce
intense physical pleasure. In a classic set of studies in the 1950s, Olds
(1958) found that rats who could press a lever to stimulate the lateral
(outside part) of the hypothalamus did so for hours on end, often
forgoing food and sleep in order to repeatedly press the lever. In fact, the
rats were willing to cross a painful electrical grid in order to reach the
lever so that they could return to stimulating themselves. (Ethical

considerations have prevented researchers from performing similar
experiments with Introductory Psychology students.)
Another important, albeit less arousing, forebrain structure is the
thalamus , a set of nuclei involved in relaying sensory information to different

regions of the brain. Most of the incoming sensory information, including
what we see and hear, is routed through specific nuclei in the thalamus.
Different types of information are processed by different nuclei before
being sent to more specialized regions of the brain for further processing
(Sherman, 2007; Sherman & Guillery, 1996). Many of these regions are
found in the outer layer known as the cerebral cortex.
The Cerebral Cortex
The cerebral cortex  is the convoluted, wrinkled outer layer of the brain that
is involved in multiple higher functions, such as thought, language, and
personality. This highly advanced, complex structure has increased
dramatically in size as the primate brain has evolved (Kouprina et al.,
2002; see Module 3.1 ). The wrinkled surface of the brain seems to have
solved a biological problem endured by our species, as well as by many
other mammals: how to pack more cells (i.e., more computing power)
into the same amount of space. Because the skull can only be so large, the
brain has countered this constraint by forming a wrinkled surface,
thereby increasing the surface area of the cortex. More surface area
means more neurons and, likely, greater cognitive complexity.
The cerebral cortex consists primarily of the cell bodies and dendrites of
neurons; these parts of the neuron give the outer part of the brain a grey-
brown colour. The axons of these neurons extend throughout the brain
and allow communication between different neural regions to occur.
Most of these axons are wrapped in a white, fatty substance called myelin
(see Module 3.2 ), which helps speed up the transmission of neural
impulses. Figure 3.24  shows a slice of the brain revealing contrasting
light and dark regions, known as white matter and grey matter. When you
see an image like Figure 3.24 , it is easy to underestimate the complexity
of the brain and its connections. Just to put this image into perspective:
The grey matter of the brain consists of approximately 100 billion
neurons (Drachman, 2005).
The white matter of a 20-year-old male brain would extend
approximately 176 000 km; for a 20-year-old female brain, it would
extend approximately 149 000 km (Marner et al., 2003).
Healthy adults have between 100 and 500 trillion synapses, or
connections between cells (Drachman, 2005). Each of these synapses
can fire several times a second. That is a considerable amount of
computing power.
Figure 3.24 Grey and White Matter of the Brain
The cerebral cortex includes both grey matter and white matter, which
consist of myelinated axons. Also seen here are the ventricles of the
brain. These cavities within the brain are filled with cerebrospinal fluid
that provides nourishment and exchange of chemicals with the brain as
well as its protective structure.
Inquiry to Understanding, 2nd Ed., ©2011. Reprinted And Electronically Reproduced By Permission
Of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
The Four Lobes
In each cerebral hemisphere, the cortex forms the outer surface of four
major areas known as lobes: the occipital, parietal, temporal, and frontal
lobes (Figure 3.25 ). Each of the cerebral lobes has a particular set of
functions. Nerve cells from each of the four lobes are interconnected,
however, and also have connections with regions of the midbrain and
hindbrain already described.
Figure 3.25 The Four Lobes of the Cerebral Cortex

The occipital lobes  are located at the rear of the brain and are where visual
information is processed. The occipital lobes receive visual information
from the thalamus. After processing this information, they send it out
along two visual pathways, one that projects to the temporal lobes and is
involved with object recognition and one that projects to the parietal
lobes and is involved with using vision to guide our movements (Milner
& Goodale, 2006).
The parietal lobes  are involved in our experiences of touch as well our bodily
awareness. At the anterior (front) edge of the parietal lobe is the

somatosensory cortex—a band of densely packed nerve cells that register
touch sensations. The amount of neural tissue dedicated to a given body
part in this region is roughly based on the number of sensory receptors
present at each respective body region. For instance, the volume of nerve
cells in the somatosensory cortex corresponding to the face and hands is
proportionally greater than the volume of cells devoted to less sensitive
regions like the torso and legs. This is because we acquire more sensory
information from our face and hands than we do from most other body
parts; very few people use their stomach when trying to identify objects
by touch. This difference in the amount of space in the somatosensory
cortex allocated to different parts of the body is depicted in Figure 3.26 ;

figures such as this are referred to as a homunculus or “little man.”
Figure 3.26 The Body as Mapped on the Motor Cortex and Somatosensory Cortex
The regions of the motor cortex are involved in controlling specific body
parts. The somatosensory cortex registers touch and other sensations that
correspond to the body region depicted. Why do you think it is
evolutionarily useful to have these two cortices next to each other in the
brain?
Source: Marieb, E. N., & Hoehn, K. (2007). Human Anatomy And Physiology, 7th Ed., ©2007, p.
438. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York,
NY.
Regions within the parietal lobes also function in performing

mathematical, visuospatial, and attention tasks. Damage to different
regions of the parietal lobe can lead to specific impairments. For instance,
right parietal lobe damage can lead to neglect , a situation in which the
patient does not attend to anything that appears in the left half of his or her
visual field (Heilman & Valenstein, 1979; Hughlings Jackson, 1876/1932);
examples of a neglect patient’s drawings are shown in Figure 3.27 .

Neglect can even occur for the left half of the patient’s imagined visual
images (Bisiach & Luzatti, 1978)!
Figure 3.27 Unilateral Neglect

Patients with damage to the right parietal lobe sometimes show evidence
of neglect, a failure to attend to the left half of their visual field.
Source: Republished with permission of British Medical Journal (BMJ Publishing Group), Parton,
A., Malhotra, P., & M. Husain, M. (2004). Hemispatial neglect, J Neurol Neurosurg Psychiatry, 75,
pp. 13–21. Retrieved from http://jnnp.bmj.com/content/75/1/13.abstract?sid=28fd8ac7-acc2-
414c-b0b0-e97478852233 .Permission conveyed through Copyright Clearance Center, Inc.
The temporal lobes  are located at the sides of the brain near the ears and are
involved in hearing, language, and some higher-level aspects of vision such as

object and face recognition. Different sections of the temporal cortex
perform different roles. The superior (top) part of the temporal cortex is
known as the auditory cortex—it is essential for our ability to hear.
Damage to this region leads to cortical deafness , problems with hearing

despite the fact that the patient’s ears work perfectly (Mott, 1907). Slightly
behind this region, near the back of the temporal lobe, is Wernicke’s area,
which is related to understanding language (Wernicke, 1874). The close
proximity of the hearing and language-comprehension areas makes
sense, as these two functions are closely related (see Module 8.3  for a
detailed discussion of language).
Some of the structures on the bottom surface of the temporal lobes have a
key role in memory. These brain areas send information about the objects
being viewed and their location or context to the hippocampus, a
forebrain structure just discussed (Diana et al., 2007; Eichenbaum et al.,
2007). The hippocampus—which is found in the medial or middle
portions of the temporal lobes—then sends output to different brain
areas, particularly regions of the frontal lobes, showing again that many
different areas of the brain work together to produce almost every
behaviour we perform.
The frontal lobes  are important in numerous higher cognitive functions,

such as planning, regulating impulses and emotions, language production, and
voluntary movement (Goldman-Rakic, 1996). The frontal lobes also allow
you to deliberately guide and reflect on your own thought processes. Like
the temporal lobes, the frontal lobes can be divided into a number of
subsections with specific functions (Miller & Cummings, 2007). A key
distinction is between areas related to movement and areas related to the
control of our mental lives.
Toward the rear of the frontal lobes is a thick band of neurons that form
the primary motor cortex, which is involved in the control of voluntary
movement. Like the somatosensory cortex discussed above, the primary
motor cortex is organized in a homunculus, with different body areas
requiring different amounts of space (see Figure 3.26 ). Body parts such
as the fingers that perform fine-motor control will require more space in
the motor cortex than areas like the upper thigh, which does not perform
many intricate movements. Importantly, motor areas in the frontal lobes
are active not just when moving the corresponding body part, but also
when planning a movement. This ability to prepare movements before
they are needed would clearly be useful when dealing with threats and
likely contributed to our species’ survival.
The front two-thirds of the frontal lobes are known as the prefrontal
cortex. This region, which itself can be divided into a number of
subsections, performs many of our higher-order cognitive functions such
as decision making and controlling our attention. The prefrontal cortex
has connections to many of the other brain areas discussed in this

module, and appears to help regulate their activity; these control
processes are known as executive functions. Such functions are not always
necessary; however, when we encounter new situations or need to
override our normal responses, the prefrontal cortex is almost always
involved (Milner, 1963; Stuss & Knight, 2002).
We would obviously like to find ways to strengthen our executive

functions. The Psych@ section provides an interesting technique:
exercise.
Psych@
The Gym
Somehow, physical exertion, pain, and breaking down and

rebuilding muscle end up making people feel better. But the
benefits of exercise do not apply just to one’s mood: Exercise
also affects cognitive activities such as learning and memory.
But how?
In recent years, neuroscientists have begun unravelling the

mystery of how exercise benefits brain health. Brain imaging
studies have revealed that people who engage in regular
exercise show improved functioning of the prefrontal cortex
compared to non-exercisers. In addition, people who exercise
perform better than non-exercisers on tasks involving planning,

scheduling, and multitasking (see Davis et al., 2011; Hillman et
al., 2008). Animal studies have shown that exercise increases
the number of cells in the hippocampus, which is critical for
memory, and increases the quantity of brain chemicals that are

responsible for promoting cell growth and functioning (Cotman
& Berchtold, 2002). But animals are not the only beneficiaries of
an exercise program; similar findings have been reported for
elderly people who regularly engage in aerobic exercise
(Erickson et al., 2011).
Despite the clear benefits associated with exercise, many

school curricula have dropped physical education in favour of
spending more time on preparation for standardized testing. It
is not clear that time away from the gym and the playground is
having much benefit. A review of 14 studies—12 conducted in
the United States, one in British Columbia (Ahamed et al., 2007),
and one in South Africa—found a “significant positive
relationship” between physical activity and academic

performance (Singh et al., 2012). This effect may be due to
changes in blood flow to the brain, a reduction in stress due to
time away from schoolwork, a positive emotional experience

associated with play, or, more likely, a combination of several
factors. Science is clearly demonstrating that exercise affects

the brain basis of learning and memory (Cotman & Berchtold,
2002; Hillman et al., 2008). These results suggest that provincial
governments should increase, not decrease, funding for

physical education in schools. Hopefully these studies will help
get that ball rolling.
The four lobes of the brain are found in both of our cerebral hemispheres.
It is therefore important to have some way for these brain regions to
communicate with each other. This prevents us from having our left and
right hemispheres working against each other. In Figure 3.28 , you can
see that crossing the midline of the brain is a densely concentrated

bundle of nerve cells called the corpus callosum , a collection of neural
fibres connecting the two cerebral hemispheres. This thick band of fibres
allows the right and left hemispheres to communicate with each other.
This communication has an added benefit: It allows the two hemispheres
to work together to produce some of our behaviours. It also opens up the
possibility that each hemisphere will become specialized for performing
certain functions.
Figure 3.28 The Corpus Callosum
The left and right hemispheres of the brain are connected by a thick band
of axons called the corpus callosum.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J, Namy, L. L. & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From Inquiry to
Left Brain, Right Brain: Hemispheric
Specialization
Although they appear to be mirror images of each other, the two sides of
the cortex often perform very different functions, a phenomenon called
hemispheric specialization . Speaking in very general terms, the right

hemisphere is specialized for cognitive tasks that involve visual and
spatial skills, recognition of visual stimuli, and musical processing. In
contrast, the left hemisphere is more specialized for language and math
(Corballis, 1993; Gazzaniga, 1967, 2000). However, although some
hemispheric differences are quite pronounced, many are a matter of

degree (Springer & Deutsch, 1998).
Our understanding of hemispheric specialization expanded greatly
through work with split-brain patients. In the 1960s, physicians hoping to
curtail severe epileptic seizures in their patients used a surgical procedure

to treat individuals who were not responding to other therapies. The
surgeon would sever the corpus callosum, leaving a patient with two
separate cerebral hemispheres. This surgery is not as drastic as it might
sound. Patients were remarkably normal after the operation, but several
interesting observations were made. One was that split-brain patients
responded quite differently to visual input that was presented to either
hemisphere alone (Sperry, 1982).
To see how this works, take a look at Figure 3.29 . Imagine the person
pictured has a split brain. She should be able to match the two objects to
her right and verbalize the match, because the left side of her visual
system perceives the objects and language is processed in the left
hemisphere of the brain. In contrast, a visual stimulus presented on the
left side of the body would be processed on the right side of the brain. As
you can see from Figure 3.29 , when the object is presented to the left
side of the split-brain patient, the individual does not verbalize which of
the objects match, because her right hemisphere is not specialized for
language and cannot label the object. If asked to point at the matching
object, however, she is able to do so (but only with her left hand, which is
controlled by the right hemisphere). Thus, she is able to process the

information using her right hemisphere, but cannot articulate it with
language.
Figure 3.29 A Split-Brain Experiment
This woman has had a split-brain operation. She is able to verbalize

which objects match when they are placed to her right side, because
language is processed in the left hemisphere. She cannot verbalize the
matching objects on the left, but can identify them by pointing with her
left hand (which is controlled by her right hemisphere).
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J, Namy, L. L. & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From Inquiry to
Today, split-brain studies are extremely rare, as modern epilepsy
medications are often sufficient to treat the symptoms of these patients
without the need to sever the corpus callosum. However, the insights
gained from these patients still inform our understanding of the brain. It
must be stressed, however, that many of these differences are a matter of

degree rather than being an absolute one-hemisphere-or-the-other
distinction. Indeed, the reality is that most cognitive functions are spread
throughout multiple brain regions, with one hemisphere sometimes being
superior to the other hemisphere (see Table 3.4 ).
Table 3.4 Examples of Hemispheric Asymmetries
Before finishing a discussion of the hemispheres, it is also important to

point out that the media often misrepresents how hemispheric
specialization works. Terms like “left-brained” and “right-brained” are

used quite frequently, with the assumption that left-brained people are
rigid-thinking accountants who spend hours counting their grey suits and
right-brained people are creative Bohemian artists who flamboyantly
wander from experimental art exhibits to melodramatic poetry readings.
There are numerous websites that allow you to test yourself on this
dimension. However, while these types of characters undoubtedly exist,
the degree to which these personalities are linked to different
hemispheres is very limited. In fact, neuroimaging studies of personality

traits show that characteristics similar to left- and right-brained people (as
measured by the pseudoscientific tests) are distributed across both
hemispheres (DeYoung et al., 2010).
The Changing Brain
When people first encounter information about the brain’s anatomy,

there is often a tendency to think of it as being permanent. However, the
opposite is true. The strength of the connections between brain structures
—and even the volume (size) of some brain areas themselves—can change
as a result of our experiences.

Neuroplasticity
In Module 3.2 , you read about stem cells, immature cells whose final role
—be it a neuron or a kidney cell—is based on the chemical environment
in which it develops. In other words, the cell’s experience (its
environment) influenced its physical structure. While fully formed
neurons will never have this type of flexibility, brain cells do have a
remarkable property called neuroplasticity —the capacity of the brain to
change and rewire itself based on individual experience. For example,
numerous studies have shown that the occipital lobes of people who are
blind are used for non-visual purposes (Pascual-Leone et al., 2005). This
plasticity was beautifully demonstrated in a brain-imaging study using

healthy individuals. All participants underwent brain imaging to
determine the areas that became active when they performed tasks
related to hearing and touch; during this initial phase, the occipital lobes
—a region associated with vision—were not active. These participants
were then blindfolded for five days before being scanned again. During
the second scan session, brain areas normally dedicated to vision became
active during touch and hearing tasks (Pascual-Leone & Hamilton, 2001).
Watch The Plastic Brain

There are numerous other examples of neuroplasticity. For example,
experienced musicians develop a greater density of grey matter in the
areas of the motor cortex of the frontal lobe as well as in the auditory
cortex (Gaser & Schlaug, 2003). Studies of children have found that
individuals who practised an instrument regularly for over two years had
a thicker corpus callosum in areas connecting the left and right frontal
and temporal lobes (Schlaug et al., 2009). Even a seemingly silly skill like
learning to juggle can influence the thickness of white-matter pathways
connecting different brain areas (Scholz et al., 2009). The key point in all
of these studies is that although genetics controls some of your brain’s

characteristics, your brain’s connections are not set in stone. What you do
with (and to) your brain can have a dramatic effect on your brain’s
connections and thus how your brain functions.
#Psych
Action Videos Games and Neuroplasticity
Action video games (AVGs) such as Fortnite and Assassin’s

Creed have become incredibly popular in recent years. It is
estimated that the world’s population spends over three billion

hours per week playing AVGs (Zimbardo & Duncan, 2012). In the
past decade, psychologists have started to examine the effects

that these games have on our cognitive and perceptual
abilities. These studies have shown that AVGs actually improve
a person’s attentional abilities as well as their hand-eye
coordination and response speeds (Bavelier et al., 2012;

Kennedy et al., 2011). These results make sense given that
AVGs are perceptually demanding.
But could playing these games actually change pathways in the
brain? Recent research suggests that they can. A recent study

found that avid AVG players had more connections between
occipital and parietal lobe areas than non-AVG players

(Kowalczyk et al., 2018). These brain areas are involved with
vision and attentional functions. Other studies have found
changes in white-matter pathways in the frontal lobes and

sensorimotor areas of the brain (Gong et al., 2017), as well as
increased sensitivity of pathways linking movement areas of

the brain with the spinal cord (Morin-Moncet et al., 2016). AVGs
can also lead to an increase in grey matter in the hippocampus

if the games require players to use spatial strategies such as
remembering locations (West et al., 2018). Together, these data

suggest that playing AVGs can have some beneficial effects on
a person’s brain. More importantly, these data show us that

neuroscience isn’t limited to a laboratory or a textbook.
Neuroscience affects, and is affected by, everything we do.
As you can see, the plastic nature of our brain’s connections can explain a
number of interesting phenomena ranging from improvements in guitar

skills to video game performance. But neuroplasticity is also important for
individuals who are attempting to recover from brain injuries.

Neuroplasticity and Recovery from Brain

Injury
The fact that neuroplasticity exists makes it seem like recovery
from brain damage should be easy—the remaining brain areas

should simply rewire themselves to take over the functions of the
damaged brain areas. However, it’s not that simple—and we are
lucky it isn’t.
What do we know about neuroplasticity?

Some animals with relatively simple brains and spinal cords, such
as fish and some amphibians, have a lifelong ability to regenerate
damaged areas of their central nervous system. If members of
these species suffer a brain or spinal cord injury, they will

automatically create new tissue to replace the damaged nerves
(Sperry, 1951, 1956, 1963, 1968). Humans can do this to a limited
degree in the peripheral nervous system as well. This is because
chemicals called trophic factors (growth factors) can stimulate the

growth of new dendrites and axons. However, the ability of the
human brain to recover from damage is more limited. New
neurons can form in adulthood, but only in a few regions such as
part of the hippocampus (Eriksson et al., 1998). That means we
can’t simply grow a new brain part whenever we’re injured.

Our ability to repair our brains is also limited by the presence of
chemicals that actually inhibit the growth of new axons around
an injured area (Yang & Schnarr, 2008). Why would this occur?
Researchers suggest that these inhibitory chemicals prevent the
brain from forming incorrect connections between brain areas, a
result that might produce even larger behavioural problems than
the initial damage itself (Berlucchi, 2011; Kolb et al., 2010). So, if
our central nervous system is protecting us against
neuroplasticity, how can neuroplasticity be the key to recovering
from brain damage?
How can science explain how neuroplasticity

contributes to recovery from brain damage?
Although it seems like the brain is preventing its own recovery,
there are actually a number of ways that neuroplasticity can work
to help patients with brain damage. One possibility is that the

same area in the opposite hemisphere will take over some of the
functions of the damaged region. Stunning evidence of this
phenomenon has been found in studies of Melodic Intonation
Therapy (MIT; Norton et al., 2009). Researchers have found that
some patients with damage to Broca’s area—a part of the left

frontal lobe involved with the production of speech—can actually
sing using fluent, articulated words, even though they cannot
speak those same words (see Figure 3.30 ). In a study of this
technique, patients who had suffered strokes affecting Broca’s
area underwent intensive MIT sessions. During these sessions the

patients would sing long strings of words using just two pitches,
while rhythmically tapping their left hand to the melody. The

patients underwent 80 or more sessions lasting 1.5 hours each
day, five days per week. Remarkably, this therapy has worked for
multiple patients—after these intensive therapy sessions, they
typically regain significant language function (Schlaug et al.,

2009). The therapy does not “heal” damaged nerve cells in the left
hemisphere at Broca’s area. Rather, language function is taken
over by the corresponding area of the right hemisphere.
Figure 3.30 Brain Specialization
Broca’s area and Wernicke’s area are associated with different

aspects of language function. Damage to Broca’s area produces
difficulties in generating speech known as Broca’s aphasia.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J, Namy, L. L. & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology: From
Inquiry to Understanding, 2nd Ed., © 2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by
permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Another method that the brain uses to repair itself is the
reorganization of neighbouring neural regions. In healthy brains,

the distinction between most brain areas is not as clear-cut as it
appears on textbook diagrams. For instance, it is common for

parts of the somatosensory cortex related to the hand to overlap a
bit with regions related to the wrist. If one of those
somatosensory areas were damaged, there might still be a small

number of neurons associated with that body part preserved in
other parts of the nearby cortex. When the brain is damaged, it is

thought that these preserved neurons attempt to form new
connections. Doing so would allow some sensation to return.
This process is enhanced if the doctors force the patient to use
the affected brain area as much as possible during rehabilitation

(Mark et al., 2006). Although it seems cruel, patients must
remember to “use it or lose it.”

There are obviously limits to the effects of neuroplasticity. If a
patient has damage to a large amount of their brain, it will not be

possible for them to return to their normal level of functioning.
Additionally, plasticity is more likely to be effective in younger
people, particularly children, than in older adults (Kennard,
1942). Therefore, it is important not to over-generalize the results
just discussed. It is also possible that results that seem to be due

to neuroplasticity are actually due to some other factor, such as
changes in hormone levels, the brain’s metabolism, or growth
factor levels (Knaepen et al., 2010; Sperry, 1968). Although all of
these alternative explanations have been tested to some degree in

animal studies, it is sometimes difficult to generalize those
findings to the human brain. Therefore, much more research is
needed before researchers can make any definitive statements
about how neuroplasticity helps brain-damaged patients recover.

Each year, 40 000 to 50 000 Canadians suffer strokes (Heart and
Stroke Foundation of Canada, 2013) and over 160 000 suffer

traumatic brain injuries (e.g., car accidents; Brain Injury Canada,
2016). Over 55 000 Canadians are living with brain tumours
(Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada, 2013). Neuroplasticity will
occur, to some degree, in the majority of these individuals. It is
what will help people regain some of their abilities and some of
their independence. Understanding neuroplasticity will improve
the care given to patients. It will also inspire new research and
innovative techniques designed to help the brain heal itself (Kim
et al., 2010). This research may affect your grandparents or your
parents. And eventually, this research may affect you.

Module 3.3 Summary
3.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with the structure

and organization of the nervous system.
Review Module 3.3
3.3b Understand . . . how studies of split-brain patients reveal

the workings of the brain.
Studies of split-brain patients were important in that they revealed that
the two hemispheres of the brain are specialized for certain cognitive
tasks. For example, studies of split-brain patients showed that the left
hemisphere was specialized for language. These studies were carried out
before other brain-imaging techniques (see Module 3.4 ) became
available.
3.3c Apply . . . your knowledge of brain regions to predict which

abilities might be affected when a specific area is injured or
diseased.
Apply Activity
Apply Activity Matching Clinical Descriptions and Brain Areas
3.3d Analyze . . . whether neuroplasticity will help patients with

brain damage.
There are many examples of experience changing the structure of the

brain. Research suggests that neuroplasticity can also help people recover
from brain damage. If the damage is isolated to one cerebral hemisphere,

cells in the same region of the opposite hemisphere may be able to take
over some of the impaired functions. Additionally, it is possible that some
of the cells involved with a function (e.g., sensation of the hand) were
undamaged; these remaining cells may form new, stronger connections
over the course of rehabilitation.

Module 3.4 Windows to the Brain:
Measuring and Observing Brain
Activity

Frank Gunn/AP/Shutterstock
3.4a Know . . . the key terminology associated with measuring and
observing brain activity.
3.4b Understand . . . how studies of animals with brain lesions can
inform us about the workings of the brain.
3.4c Apply . . . your knowledge of neuroimaging techniques to see

which ones would be most useful in answering a specific
research question.
3.4d Analyze . . . whether neuroimaging can be used to diagnose
brain injuries.
On December 1, 2018, boxer Adonis Stevenson stepped into the boxing
ring at the Videotron Centre in Quebec City. The 41-year-old Haitian-

Canadian had an impressive record: 29 wins (including 24 knockouts),
one loss, and one draw. His opponent that night was Oleksandr
Gvozdyk, a 31-year-old Ukrainian fighter with a perfect 15-0 record.
The night started well for Stevenson. Through the first ten rounds of the
12-round fight, he was leading on two of the three judges’ scoring cards
and was tied on the other. He just needed to get through the final six
minutes of the bout. However, late in the 11th round, Gvozdyk stunned
Stevenson with a powerful shot and then unleashed a 10-punch flurry

that left Stevenson on the canvas, barely aware of his surroundings.
Stevenson was helped to the dressing room but soon collapsed and was
rushed to a Quebec City hospital. The doctors performed surgery on his
brain and placed him into a medically induced coma for three weeks.
Although Stevenson did eventually regain consciousness, the doctors
told the media that these types of severe brain injuries can have lasting
effects on a patient’s cognitive abilities, identifying several of them with
great confidence. Stevenson’s boxing career is likely finished.
Injuries such as Stevenson’s lead to a number of questions for people
interested in the biology of behaviour: How can psychologists and

medical personnel acquire clear images of a person’s brain? How can
surgeons make predictions about how the brain damage will affect
specific abilities? And, can scientists learn anything about the healthy
brain by studying patients like Stevenson who have suffered brain

damage? These topics will be addressed in the current module.
In Module 3.3 , you read about different brain areas and their functions.
This leads to an obvious question: How did researchers find out what
these brains areas do? In this module, we will examine the different
methods and tools available to physicians and researchers in their quest
to map out the functions of different brain areas.

Insights from Brain Damage
Early studies of the brain often involved case studies. A doctor would
note a patient’s unique set of symptoms and would then ghoulishly wait
for them to die so that an autopsy could be performed in order to identify
the damaged area. As medical knowledge improved, surgeons began to
routinely operate on the brains of patients with neurological problems.

This allowed researchers to examine patients before and after brain
surgery to see the effect that removing tissue would have on behaviour.
However, in each of these cases, insights into the brain were based on
individuals who had suffered some sort of trauma or illness. There was no
way to test how healthy brains functioned. In the past four decades,
advances in brain imaging have changed this, and have allowed

researchers to safely measure the brain’s activity.
This is not to say that studying patients with brain damage is not
scientifically useful. In fact, quite the opposite is true. The only way
researchers can truly hope to understand how the brain works is by using
a number of methods to assess its function.

Lesioning the Brain
Studies of patients who have suffered brain damage will appear in a
number of modules in this text. The logic of this method is that if a
person has part of their brain damaged and is unable to perform a
particular task (e.g., form new memories), then it is assumed that the
damaged structure plays a role in that behaviour. One drawback of

studying human patients, however, is that the researcher has no control
over where the damage occurs. A stroke generally produces widespread
damage; rarely will it harm a single area while leaving the rest of the
brain totally unaffected. This diffuse damage makes it difficult for brain
researchers to perform controlled studies of patients—each patient will

have a unique pattern of damage. It is also difficult to isolate the effects of
damage to one brain area when several are affected.
In order to gain more experimental control (and a much larger number of
subjects), scientists often create brain damage in animals. This process is

known as lesioning , a technique in which researchers intentionally damage
an area in the brain (a lesion is abnormal or damaged brain tissue).
Creating lesions allows researchers to isolate single brain structures. They
can then study animals with and without lesions to see how specific
behaviours are changed by the removal of that brain tissue. The control
subjects are often part of a sham group , a set of animals that go through
all of the surgical procedures aside from the lesion itself in order to control for the
effects of stress, anesthesia, and the annoyance of stitches. An example of the
lesion method is found in studies of spatial learning. Researchers

hypothesized that the hippocampus was vital for this ability. In order to
test this hypothesis, the researchers lesioned the hippocampus on both
sides of the brains of one group of rats and performed sham surgery on
the other rats. Each rat was then put into the Morris Water Maze (Morris,
1981); this device consists of a container filled with an opaque (non-
transparent) fluid (see Figure 3.31 ). The rat is placed in the water and
must swim around until it finds a small platform hidden under the fluid.
At first, the rat finds the platform by chance; over time, the rat learns the
location of the platform and swims to it immediately. However, rats with
lesions to the hippocampus show a marked impairment in learning the

location of the platform, presumably because the hippocampus is critical
for many spatial abilities (Morris et al., 1982). This example demonstrates
the power of the lesion method to determine the roles played by specific
brain areas.
Figure 3.31 The Morris Water Maze

Tools like the Morris Water Maze allow researchers to test the effects of
brain lesions on behaviours such as spatial memory.
Brain Stimulation Studies
Less drastic techniques impair brain activity only temporarily; in fact,
some can be safely applied to humans. For instance, researchers can
study brain functions using transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) ,
a procedure in which an electromagnetic pulse is delivered to a targeted region of
the brain (Bestmann, 2008; Terao & Ugawa, 2002). This pulse interacts
with the flow of ions around the neurons of the affected area. The result
is a temporary disruption of brain activity, similar to the permanent
disruption caused by a brain lesion. This procedure has the advantage
that healthy human volunteers can be studied (as opposed to animals or
brain-damaged people, many of whom are elderly). TMS has been used
to investigate a number of cognitive processes ranging from visual
perception (Perini et al., 2012) to arithmetic abilities (Andres et al., 2011)
to memory for words and abstract shapes (Floel et al., 2004). In each case,
impairments in performance after receiving the TMS “temporary lesion”
tell the researcher that the stimulated brain area is likely involved in that
cognitive process.
Interestingly, if a weaker electromagnetic pulse is delivered, TMS can also
be used to stimulate, rather than temporarily impair, a brain region
(Figure 3.32 ). For example, TMS has been used to increase the activity
in the frontal lobes—an area related to planning and inhibiting behaviour
—when people were performing a gambling task. This change led the
participants to behave in a more cautious, risk-averse manner than when
they performed the task without this stimulation (Fecteau, Pascual-Leone

et al., 2007). TMS has also been used to stimulate under-active areas
associated with depression, suggesting that this tool has clinical
applications as well (Kluger & Triggs, 2007). In fact, researchers have
used this technique to help patients deal with symptoms of disorders
ranging from Parkinson’s disease (Degardin et al., 2012) to movement
problems caused by strokes (Corti et al., 2012; Schlaug et al., 2008).
Figure 3.32 Brain Stimulation
Transcranial magnetic stimulation involves targeting a magnetic field to a

very specific region of the brain. Depending on the amount of
stimulation, researchers can temporarily either stimulate or disable the
region.
Although lesion work and TMS allow researchers to understand what
happens to the brain when certain regions are removed or inactive, these
methods don’t provide a picture of the brain’s structures or its patterns of
activity. Luckily, there have been astonishing advances in neuroimaging
over the past 40 years.
Structural and Functional Neuroimaging
Neuroimaging (or brain imaging) is becoming increasingly important for

many fields, particularly for psychology. Being able to examine the brains
of living people and to measure neural activity while participants perform
different tasks provides an astonishing window into the mind.
Neuroimaging has also revolutionized medicine, allowing doctors to see

with great precision the size and location of brain injuries. The remainder
of this module will focus on the two types of brain scanning: structural
and functional neuroimaging.

Structural Neuroimaging
At the beginning of this module, you read about boxer Adonis
Stevenson’s brutal knockout loss and the fact that he needed to be
hospitalized for several weeks after being knocked out. When Stevenson
first arrived at the hospital, the doctors would obviously have wanted to
determine the extent of the damage to his brain. In order to get this
information, it was necessary to use structural neuroimaging , a type of
brain scanning that produces images of the different structures of the brain. This
type of neuroimaging is used to measure the size of different brain areas
and to determine whether any brain injury has occurred.
There are three commonly used types of structural neuroimaging.
Computerized tomography (or CT scan)  is a structural neuroimaging
technique in which x-rays are sent through the brain by a tube that rotates
around the head. The x-rays will pass through dense tissue (e.g., grey
matter) at a different speed than they will pass through less dense tissue,
like the fluid in the ventricles (Hounsfield, 1980). A computer then
calculates these differences for each image that is taken as the tube moves
around the head and combines that information into a three-dimensional
image (see Figure 3.33 ). As an interesting historical aside, the first
commercial CT scanner was created in the early 1970s by EMI (and was
called the EMI-Scanner), a company also involved in the music industry.
This company had enough money to pay for four years of medical-
imaging research because they were also the record label of a band
known as The Beatles (Filler, 2009).

Figure 3.33 Structural Neuroimaging
Three different types of structural neuroimaging: (a) a CT scan, (b) an

MRI scan, and (c) a diffusion tensor imaging scan.
Left: Guy Croft SciTech/Alamy Stock Photo; middle: Steve Smith; right: Zephyr/Photo
Researchers, Inc./Science Source
CT scans were considered state-of-the-art for over a decade. However, in
the 1970s and early 1980s, a new form of structural neuroimaging

emerged. Magnetic resonance imaging (or MRI)  is a structural imaging
technique in which clear images of the brain are created based on how different
neural regions absorb and release energy while in a magnetic field. Although
this sounds confusing, understanding MRIs involves three steps. First, a
brain (or other body part) is placed inside a strong magnetic field; this
causes the protons of the brain’s hydrogen atoms to spin in the same
direction. Second, a pulse of radio waves is sent through the brain; the
energy of this pulse is absorbed by the atoms in the brain and knocks
them out of their previous position (aligned with the magnetic field).
Finally, the pulse of radio waves is turned off. At this point, the atoms
again become aligned with the magnetic field. But, as they do so, they
release the energy they absorbed during the pulse. Different types of
tissue—grey matter, white matter, and fluid—release different amounts of
energy and return to their magnetic alignment at different speeds.

Computers are used to calculate these differences and provide a very
detailed three-dimensional image of the brain (Huettel et al., 2009).
As you can see from Figure 3.33 , MRIs produce much clearer images
than CT scans and are more accurate at detecting many forms of damage,
including severe concussions like that suffered by Adonis Stevenson
(Bazarian et al., 2007). So, why are CT scanners still used? Let’s go back
to Stevenson’s injury. He was hit repeatedly by leather boxing gloves and
the fell to the canvas mat with his head lying on the nylon ropes, so the
chances of him having metal in his brain were quite slim. But what if a
person entered the hospital after a car accident? He might have fragments
of metal in his body; these would not react well to a powerful magnet.
Therefore, CT scans, aside from being cheap, are a safe first-assessment

tool for brain injuries. When the doctors have more information about
the patient and his injury, then it is possible that the more accurate MRI
will be used.
A final type of structural neuroimaging technique is also the newest.

Diffusion tensor imaging (or DTI)  is a form of structural neuroimaging
allowing researchers or medical personnel to measure white-matter pathways in

the brain. Although it is natural to assume that the grey matter—the cell
bodies—is the most sensitive part of the brain, white-matter damage has
been found in an increasing number of brain disorders (Shenton et al.,
2012). This is because most head injuries cause the brain to twist around
in the skull. The result is that some of the white-matter pathways
connecting different brain areas are torn. A large number of studies have
shown that these pathways are damaged in individuals who have suffered
concussions (Niogi & Mukherjee, 2010), although it is unclear whether
professional and collegiate/university sports leagues are using this
technology when making return-to-play decisions for injured athletes (J.

K. Johnson et al., 2012).
Functional Neuroimaging
Although structural images provide useful information about the brain’s
anatomy, they do not tell us much about the functions of those brain
areas. This information is gathered using functional neuroimaging , a
type of brain scanning that provides information about which areas of the brain
are active when a person performs a particular behaviour. There are a number
of different functional neuroimaging methods available to researchers and
physicians. A common trade-off is between temporal resolution (how brief
a period of time can be accurately measured) and spatial resolution (a
clear picture of the brain). Which tool is used depends upon the type of
question being asked.
A neuroimaging method with fantastic temporal resolution is an
electroencephalogram (or EEG) , which measures patterns of brain activity
with the use of multiple electrodes attached to the scalp. The neural firing of
the billions of cells in the brain can be detected with these electrodes,
amplified, and depicted in an electroencephalogram. EEGs measure this
activity every millisecond. They can tell us a lot about general brain
activity during sleep, during wakefulness, and while patients or research
participants are engaged in a particular cognitive activity. EEGs are also
used to detect when patients with epilepsy are having a seizure; this
would be shown by a sudden spike in activity (neuronal firing) in one or
more brain areas (see Figure 3.34 ). The convenience and relatively
inexpensive nature of EEGs, compared to other modern methods, make
them very appealing to researchers.

Figure 3.34 Measuring Brain Activity
The electroencephalogram measures electrical activity of the brain by way

of electrodes that amplify the signals emitted by active regions (left). In
clinical conditions such as epilepsy (right), specific EEG measurements
will spike. This provides the medical team with information about the
origin of the seizure.
Steve Smith, Chaikom/Shutterstock

From Figure 2 in Role of EEG in Epilepsy Syndromes in EEG of Common Epilepsy Syndromes by
Raj D Sheth, MD. Copyright © 2016 by Raj D Sheth. Used by permission of Medscape LLC.
But how can EEG be used to further our understanding of human
behaviour? In most studies, researchers would be interested in how brain

responses differ for different types of stimuli, such as happy or fearful
faces. EEGs have perfect temporal resolution for this task, but they have a
problem: How do you link the EEG output (a bunch of squiggly lines)
with your stimuli? To do this, researchers have developed a technique
known as event-related potentials (or ERPs). ERPs use the same sensors as
EEGs; however, a computer takes note of exactly when a given stimulus

(e.g., a smiling face) was presented to the participant. The experimenter
can then examine the EEG readout for a brief period of time (usually 1 to
2 seconds) following the appearance of that stimulus. Importantly, the
computer can collect the average brain responses for different types of
experimental trials. So, if an experiment contained 50 separate stimulus
presentations—25 happy faces and 25 fearful faces—the experimenter
could collect the average pattern of data after each type of stimulus (i.e.,
there would be one set of squiggly lines for happy faces and one for
fearful faces).
Critically, the peaks and valleys of these waveforms are not random—each
is associated with some sort of process occurring in the brain. For
example, initial detection of some sort of visual image could occur after
80–120 ms (Mangun et al., 1993). Determining that the image was a face
might occur at approximately 170 ms (Bötzel et al., 1995). And identifying

that face as someone you know might occur sometime after 300 ms.
Researchers can then look at the size of the peaks and valleys to
determine whether there was a difference in the amount of brain activity

in response to the different stimulus types (e.g., a peak at 200 ms was
higher for fearful than for happy faces). This technique can also have
clinical uses. If a patient (e.g., someone with multiple sclerosis) was
missing an expected waveform, the neurologist could conclude that a

particular region of the brain was not functioning normally (Ruseckaite et
al., 2005).
Although ERPs are very useful for measuring when brain activity is
occurring, they are much less effective at identifying exactly where that
activity is taking place. Part of this problem is due to the fact that the skull
disrupts the electrical signal from the neurons’ firing; this reduces the
accuracy of ERP measurements. In order to get around this, some
researchers measure the magnetic activity associated with cells firing.
This is accomplished by using magnetoencephalography (or MEG) , a

neuroimaging technique that measures the tiny magnetic fields created by the
electrical activity of nerve cells in the brain. Like EEG, MEG records the
electrical activity of nerve cells just a few milliseconds after it occurs,

which allows researchers to record brain activity at nearly the instant a
stimulus is presented (Hamalainen et al., 1993). In a study with happy
and fearful faces, MEG could measure when an image was detected and
when it was recognized as being a face (Halgren et al., 2000). However,

like ERPs, this speed comes with a trade-off; namely, MEGs do not
provide a detailed picture of the activity of specific brain areas. So,
although its ability to isolate the location of brain activity is slightly better
than that of ERPs, it is still difficult to isolate exactly where in the brain the
activity occurred.
A functional imaging method that can show activity of the whole brain is
positron emission tomography (or PET) , a type of scan in which a low
level of a radioactive isotope is injected into the blood, and its movement to
regions of the brain engaged in a particular task is measured (Figure 3.35 ).
This method works under the assumption that active nerve cells use up
energy at a faster rate than do cells that are less active. As a result, more
blood will need to flow into those active areas in order to bring more
oxygen and glucose to the cells. If the blood contains a radioactive

isotope (as in a PET study), more radioactivity will be detected in areas of
the brain that were active during that period of time. In most studies,
participants will complete separate blocks of trials or even separate
scanning sessions for different types of experimental trials. The activity

from these sessions is then compared to see which brain areas are more
(or less) active in response to different types of stimuli. For instance,
researchers at McGill University provided the first evidence that the
ventral (bottom) portions of the right hemisphere of the brain were
involved with recognizing faces (Sergent et al., 1992).
Figure 3.35 Positron Emission Tomography
PET scans use radioactive isotopes to help identify which areas of the
brain were most active.
Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source
The greatest strength of PET scans is that they show metabolic activity of
the brain. PET also allows researchers to measure the involvement of

specific types of receptors (e.g., types of dopamine receptors) in different
brain regions while people perform an experimental task (e.g.,
Woodward et al., 2009). A drawback is that PET scans take a long time to
acquire—at least two minutes—which is a problem when you want to see

moment-by-moment activity of the brain. The radioactivity of PET also
generally limits the participants to men because it is possible that female
participants could be in the early stages of pregnancy. In that case, the
risks of participating would far outweigh the rewards. Instead, researchers
are increasingly turning to a powerful neuroimaging technique with

excellent spatial resolution.
Functional MRI and Behaviour
Functional magnetic resonance imaging (or fMRI)  measures
brain activity by detecting the influx of oxygen-rich blood into neural

areas that were just active (Kwong et al., 1992; Ogawa et al., 1992).
Like PET scanning, fMRI can produce an accurate image of the
functional brain. However, its ease of use (and lack of
radioactivity) has quickly made it one of the most influential

research tools in modern psychology.
What do we know about fMRI and Behaviour?

If you type in “fMRI” into the PubMed.gov research database, you
will see that there have been over half a million papers published
since this technology was developed 25 years ago. The growth in
this field is staggering—there are literally thousands of fMRI
research papers published each year. Researchers are using fMRI
to study almost every topic discussed in this text, ranging from
sensory processes (Chapter 4 ) to memory (Chapter 7 ) to
social behaviours (Chapter 13 ). Importantly, fMRI is also being
used to examine clinical issues including psychological disorders

(Chapter 15 ) and disorders of consciousness (e.g., vegetative
states, Module 5.3 ). It is also being used to examine brain
activity in neurological patients like Adonis Stevenson—
psychologists and medical personnel can look at what areas of

the brain are active when a person is performing different tasks
such as remembering lists of words. If the patterns of activity
deviate from those of healthy individuals, then the investigators
can infer that specific brain regions are not working properly.
With this surge in fMRI research and clinical use, it is important
to examine how fMRI links blood flow to descriptions of
behaviour.
How can science explain fMRI’s use in

psychology and neuroscience?
When a brain area is involved with a particular function, it will
use up oxygen. The result is that blood in these areas will be
deoxygenated (without oxygen molecules). The body responds
by sending in more oxygen-rich blood to replace the
deoxygenated blood. Critically, these two types of blood have
different magnetic properties. So, by measuring the changing

magnetic properties of the blood in different brain areas, it is
possible to see which areas were active when the person
performed a particular task (Huettel et al., 2009; Magri et al.,
2012). When you see pictures of different brain areas “lit up,”
those colourful areas indicate that more activity occurred in that

location during one experimental condition than during another
(see Figure 3.36 ). To continue our example of perceiving faces,
researchers could present happy or fearful faces to participants

while they were in the fMRI scanner (which is the same machine
used for structural MRI scans). After the study, the researchers
could look at the average amount of brain activity that occurred
when each participant viewed each type of face. In this case,

seeing faces would activate a region in the bottom of the right
hemisphere known as the fusiform gyrus (Kanwisher et al., 1997;

see Module 4.2 ). Faces expressing fear also would activate the
amygdala, and faces expressing happiness activate a wide

network of structures in the frontal lobes (M. L. Phillips et al.,
1998). Thus, fMRI provides very detailed images of where brain
activity is occurring. Unfortunately, it can only measure activity at

the level of seconds rather than milliseconds; therefore, it lacks
the temporal resolution of ERP and MEG (see Table 3.6 ).
Figure 3.36 Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging
Functional MRI technology allows researchers to determine how

blood flow, and hence brain activity, changes as study
participants or patients perform different tasks. In this image, the
coloured areas depict increases in blood flow to the left and right
temporal lobes, relative to the rest of the brain, during a cognitive
task.
Living Art Enterprises/Science Source
Table 3.6 Common Methods of Functional Neuroimaging

Although researchers have shown that the activity that we see in
fMRI images is actually linked to the firing of neurons (Logothetis
et al., 2001), we still need to be cautious when interpreting fMRI

data. One reason is that it is correlational in nature. Activity
increases or decreases at the same time as different stimuli are
perceived; however, we can’t definitively show that the activity
was caused by the stimuli. Also, just because a brain area is active
while we perform a task does not mean that it is necessary for that
task. It is possible that a given area that “lights up” on fMRI is a
small part of a larger network, or performs a supporting role.
Therefore, it is useful to look at research using other methods (if
available) to see if similar brain areas were implicated in a given

behaviour.
There is an additional reason to be cautious of fMRI data. There

is a growing trend for neuroimaging, particularly fMRI, to be used
to explain or justify phenomena that are not easily measured
(Satel & Lilienfeld, 2013). Images of brains with areas lit up can
be found on almost every major online news site. The problem is
that many of the claims made in these stories are overstated
(more likely, but not always, by the media than by the scientists).
Given the massive connections between brain areas, headlines
that suggest that scientists have discovered the “hate centre” or
the neural structure associated with how someone will vote are
misleading. Most brain areas are activated by many different
situations and stimuli. So, just as you would raise your skeptical
eyebrows in response to reports of scientists finding the single
gene for a given behaviour (see Module 3.1 ), you should apply
your critical-thinking skills toward claims about scientists
identifying the single brain area for any complex process.

It is difficult to overstate how important fMRI has been to
psychological science. It has allowed researchers to map out the

networks associated with a huge range of topics, thus providing
most of the “bio” components of the biopsychosocial model of
behaviour. Recently, researchers at Queen’s University and the
University of Manitoba have found ways to perform fMRI on

neurons in the spinal cord (Kornelsen et al., 2013; Stroman,
2005). Thus, it will soon be possible to measure how the entire
central nervous system responds to different stimuli, an ability
that will allow us to gain a more complete understanding of
human behaviour.
Module 3.4 Summary
3.4a Know . . . the key terminology associated with measuring

and observing brain activity.
Review Module 3.4
3.4b Understand . . . how studies of animals with brain lesions

can inform us about the workings of the brain.
Researchers have learned a great deal from studies of neurological
patients; however, because most accidental brain damage is spread out

across many structures, it is difficult to determine the effect of damage to
a particular structure. Lesion studies with animals allow researchers to
address this type of question by intentionally damaging a very specific
region of the brain. These studies also allow researchers to test far more
subjects than they could if they were testing humans with brain damage;
therefore, animal lesion studies allow researchers to answer more
questions than would otherwise be possible.
3.4c Apply . . . your knowledge of neuroimaging techniques to

see which ones would be most useful in answering a specific
research question.
Complete the first Apply Activity to review the different techniques used
to study the brain. Then, complete the second Apply Activity to test your
knowledge of the major types of functional neuroimaging.
Apply Activity Windows to the Brain

Apply Activity
3.4d Analyze . . . whether neuroimaging can be used to diagnose

brain injuries.
Several methods for measuring brain activity were covered in this
module. A CT scan can provide an initial picture of the brain; this is used
most often when a patient first enters the hospital. If a more detailed
image is necessary and the patient does not have metal fragments in his
body, then MRI is used. If researchers are particularly interested in
diagnosing white-matter damage, diffusion tensor imaging (DTI) may be
used as well. Additionally, any of the functional imaging methods

discussed in this module could show different patterns of activity for
individuals with and without brain damage, depending upon the task
being performed and the location of the injury.
Chapter 4
Sensation and Perception
4.1 Sensation and Perception at a Glance
Sensing the World around Us
Perceiving the World around Us
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Backward Messages in
Music
Module 4.1 Summary
4.2 The Visual System

The Human Eye
Visual Perception and the Brain
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Are Faces Special?
Module 4.2 Summary
4.3 The Auditory and Vestibular Systems
Sound and the Structures of the Ear
The Perception of Sound
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Perception of
Musical Beats
The Vestibular System

Module 4.3 Summary
4.4 Touch and the Chemical Senses
The Sense of Touch
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Empathy and Pain
The Chemical Senses: Taste and Smell
Multimodal Integration
Module 4.4 Summary

Module 4.1 Sensation and
Perception at a Glance
Martin Philbey/Redferns/Getty Images
4.1a Know . . . the key terminology of sensation and perception.
4.1b Understand . . . what stimulus thresholds are.
4.1c Understand . . . the principles of Gestalt psychology.
4.1d Apply . . . your knowledge of signal detection theory to identify
hits, misses, and correct responses in examples.
4.1e Analyze . . . claims that subliminal advertising and backward
messages can influence your behaviour.
In December 1985, 18-year-old Ray Belknap shot himself to death in
Reno, Nevada. His friend James Vance attempted to do the same but
survived, his face forever scarred by the shotgun blast. Vance later
claimed that his actions were influenced by “subliminal messages”
found in the heavy metal music of the band Judas Priest. His family
sued the band for damages. The prosecution claimed that when played
backwards, the song “Better by You, Better Than Me” contained the
phrase “do it.” This phrase was allegedly perceived by the two youths,
prompting them to attempt suicide. Although this claim seems

outlandish, it led to lengthy legal proceedings and received heavy media
coverage. It took the work of two Canadian psychologists to

demonstrate that these allegations were unfounded. Their research,
described later in this module, demonstrates the importance of scientific

literacy and provides interesting insights about the abilities—and
limitations—of our perceptual systems.
Sensation and perception are different, yet integrated processes. To
illustrate this point, take a look at the Necker cube in Figure 4.1 . After
staring at it for several seconds, the cube may appear to flip its orientation
on the page (the side that looks like an interior wall at the back of the
cube can also look like the exterior side of the front of the cube).
Although the cube remains constant on the page and in the way it is
reflected in the eye, it can be perceived in different ways. The switching
of perspectives is a perceptual phenomenon that takes place in the brain.
Figure 4.1 The Necker Cube
Stare at this object for several seconds until it changes perspective.
Source: Based on Galanter, E. (1962). Contemporary psychophysics. In R. Brown, E. Galanter, E.

H. Hess, & G. Mandler (Eds.), New Directions in Psychology (p. 231). New York: Holt, Rinehart, &
Winston.
Sensing the World around Us
The world outside of the human body is full of light, sound vibrations,
and objects we can touch. A walk through campus can be filled with the
moving shadows of towering trees, the sounds of birds chirping, and the
cool crisp air of an autumn morning. In order to make sense of all this
information, the body has developed an amazing array of specialized

processes for sensing and perceiving the world around us. The process of
detecting and then translating the complexity of the world into
meaningful experiences occurs in two stages.
The first step is sensation , the process of detecting external events with
sense organs and turning those stimuli into neural signals. At the sensory
level, the sound of someone’s voice is simply air particles pushing against
the eardrum, and the sight of a person is merely light waves stimulating
receptors in the eye. All of this raw sensory information is then relayed to
the brain, where perception occurs. Perception  involves attending to,
organizing, and interpreting stimuli that we sense. Perception includes
organizing the different vibrations of the eardrum in a way that allows
you to recognize them as a human voice and linking together the
stimulation of groups of receptors in the eye into the visual experience of

seeing someone walking toward you.
The raw sensations detected by the sensory organs are turned into
information that the brain can process through transduction , when
specialized receptors transform the physical energy of the outside world into
neural impulses. These neural impulses travel into the brain and influence
the activity of different brain structures, which ultimately gives rise to our
internal representation of the world.
The sensory receptors involved in transduction differ for each sense
(summarized in Table 4.1 ). The transduction of light occurs when it
reaches receptors at the back of the eye; light-sensitive chemicals in the
retina then convert this energy into nerve impulses that travel to
numerous brain centres where colour and motion are perceived and
objects are identified (see Figure 4.2 ). The transduction of sound takes
place in a specialized structure in the ear called the cochlea, where sound
energy is converted into neural impulses that travel to the hearing centres
of the brain.
Table 4.1 Stimuli Affecting Our Major Senses and Corresponding Receptors
Figure 4.2 From Stimulus to Perception

Sensing and perceiving begin with the detection of a stimulus by one of
our senses. Receptors convert the stimulus into a neural impulse, a
process called transduction. Our perception of the stimulus takes place in
higher, specialized regions of the brain.
The brain’s ability to organize our sensations into coherent perceptions is

remarkable. All of our senses use the same mechanism for transmitting
information in the brain: the action potential (see Module 3.2 ). As a
result, the brain is continually bombarded by waves of neural impulses
representing the world in all its complexity; yet, somehow, it must be
able to separate different sensory signals from one another so that we can
experience distinct sensations—sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste. It
accomplishes this feat by sending signals from different sensory organs to

different parts of the brain. Therefore, it is not the original sensory input
that is most important for generating our perceptions; rather, it is the

brain area that processes this information. We see because visual
information gets sent to the occipital lobes, which generate our

experience of vision. We hear because auditory information gets sent to
our temporal lobes, which generate our experience of hearing. This idea,
that the different senses are separated in the brain, was first proposed in 1826
by the German physiologist Johannes Müller and is known as the
doctrine of specific nerve energies .
Although this separation seems perfectly logical, it requires that distinct

pathways connect sensory organs to the appropriate brain structures.
Interestingly, these pathways are not fully distinct in the developing
brain. Researchers at McMaster University have demonstrated that

infants have a number of overlapping sensations (Maurer & Maurer,
1988; Spector & Maurer, 2009). For instance, spoken language elicits
activity in areas of the brain related to hearing, but also in brain areas
related to vision. This effect does not disappear until age three (Neville,
1995). As children age, the pathways in their brains become more

distinct, with less-useful connections being pruned away. Thus,
perception is a skill that our brains learn through experience.
Experience also influences how we adapt to sensory stimuli in our

everyday lives. Generally speaking, our sensory receptors are most
responsive upon initial exposure to a stimulus. For example, when you
first walk out of a building onto a sidewalk beside a busy street, the sound
from the traffic and the bright sunlight initially seem intense. These
sensations occur because our sensory receptors and brain areas related to
perception are highly sensitive to change. Changes in our sensory and
perceptual worlds elicit an orienting response, which allows us to quickly
shift our attention to new or altered stimuli.
The flip side of this ability is that we allocate progressively less attention
to stimuli that remain the same over time; these unchanging stimuli elicit
less activity in the nervous system and are perceived as being less intense
over time. So, the sound of traffic or the light outside will seem less
intense after a few minutes than it did when you first exited the building.
This process is known as sensory adaptation , the reduction of activity in
sensory receptors with repeated exposure to a stimulus. Sensory adaptation

provides the benefit of allowing us to adjust to our surroundings and shift
our focus to other events that may be important. However, there are also
drawbacks to sensory adaptation. We may get used to listening to loud
music in our headphones, which can eventually damage the auditory
system. We also stop noticing how polluted and loud city life can be, even
though both factors can influence our stress levels and overall health
(Evans, 2003).
There is a real-world example of sensory adaptation that most of us

experience every day. Watch television for 5 to 10 minutes; but rather
than follow the plot of the show, pay attention to how many times the
camera angle changes. Directors change the camera angle (and thus your
sensation and perception) every few seconds in order to prevent you from
experiencing sensory adaptation. The image on the screen will change

from wide-angle shots to close-ups of different actors, and that change
stimulates your orienting response, making it difficult for you to look
away. Whether this over-exposure to rapidly changing stimuli is having a
permanent effect on our brains—particularly the developing brains of

children—is a hotly debated issue in current psychological research
(Bavelier et al., 2010; Ferguson, 2017).
Sensory adaptation is one process that accounts for why we respond less
to a repeated stimulus—even to something that initially seems impossible
to ignore.
Flashon Studio/Shutterstock
Stimulus Thresholds
How loud does someone have to whisper for you to hear that person? If
you touch a railway track, how sensitive are your fingers to vibrations
from a distant train? How does your hearing or sense of touch compare to
other people that you know? Are they more or less sensitive? One of the
first perception researchers, William Gustav Fechner (1801–1887), was

fascinated by such questions. Fechner was a German physicist who was
interested in vision. In 1839, he developed an eye disorder that forced
him to resign from his academic position. He later recovered, but the
experience of having impaired vision—and the effects this had on his
thoughts and actions—changed the focus of his research. Fechner helped

to create psychophysics , the field of study that explores how physical energy
such as light and sound and their intensity relate to psychological experience. A
popular approach was to measure the minimum amount of a stimulus
needed for detection, and the degree to which a stimulus must change in
strength for the change to be perceptible to people.
An absolute threshold  is the minimum amount of energy or quantity of a
stimulus required for it to be reliably detected at least 50% of the time it is
presented (Figure 4.3 ). For example, imagine an experimenter asked you
to put on headphones and listen for spoken words; however, they
manipulated the volume at which the words were presented so that some
could be heard and some could not. Your absolute threshold would be
the volume at which you could detect the words 50 % of the time. But
your absolute threshold might differ from the person beside you—the
minimum amount of pressure, sound, light, or chemical required for
detection varies among individuals and across the lifespan. There are also
large differences across species. The family dog may startle, bark, and tear
for the door before you can even detect a visitor’s approach, and a cat can
detect changes in shadows and light that go unnoticed by humans. There
is no magic or mystery in either example: These animals simply have
lower absolute thresholds for detecting sound and light.
Figure 4.3 Absolute Thresholds
The absolute threshold is the level at which a stimulus can be detected

50% of the time.
Another measure of perception refers to how well an individual can
detect whether a stimulus has changed. A difference threshold  is the

smallest difference between stimuli that can be reliably detected at least 50 % of
the time. When you add salt to your food, for example, you are attempting
to cross a difference threshold that your taste receptors can register.

Whether you actually detect a difference, known as a just noticeable
difference, depends primarily on the intensity of the original stimulus. The

more intense the original stimulus, the larger the amount of it that must
be added for the difference threshold to be reached. For example, if you
add one pinch of salt to a plate of french fries that already had one pinch
sprinkled on them, you can probably detect the difference. However, if
you add one pinch of salt to fries that already had four pinches applied,
you probably will not detect much of a difference. Apparently, to your
senses, a pinch of salt does not always equal a pinch of salt.
This effect was formalized into an equation by Ernst Weber (1795–1878),
a German physician and one of the founders of psychophysics. Weber’s

law  states that the just noticeable difference between two stimuli changes as a
proportion of those stimuli. Imagine you’re holding 50 g of candy in your

hand. You may not notice if 1 g of candy is added; instead, let’s say that
the just noticeable difference is 5 g (i.e., you can tell the difference
between 50 g and 55 g of candy). Now let’s imagine that your friend
hands you 100 g of candy. Again, they start adding candy to your hand to
see when you’ll notice a change. Weber’s law would suggest that the just
noticeable difference would be 10 g. If the just noticeable difference of 50

g is 5 g, and if 100 g is 50 g doubled, then the just noticeable difference of
100 g should be 5 g doubled: 10 g.
The study of stimulus thresholds has its limitations. Whether someone
perceives a stimulus is determined by self-report—that is, by an individual

reporting that they either did or did not detect a stimulus. But not all
people are equally willing to say they sensed a weak stimulus. This
inconsistency has real-world implications. Think of a radiologist trying to
detect tumours in a set of images: If there are differences in the absolute

threshold of different radiologists, then one might miss tumours that
others would detect. But, this scenario is even more complex—different

radiologists might be more or less likely to report seeing a tumour when
they are unsure of what they have seen. How do we confirm whether
these stimuli were truly perceived or whether the individuals were just
guessing?
Experiment: Weber's Law

Signal Detection
If you are certain that a stimulus exists (e.g., you were hit in the face with
a soccer ball), then there is no reason to worry about whether you did or
did not perceive something. However, there are many instances in which
we must make decisions about sensory input that is uncertain, as in the
previous example of a radiologist. It is in these ambiguous situations that

signal detection theory can be a powerful tool for the study of our sensory
systems. Signal detection theory  states that whether a stimulus is
perceived depends on both the sensory experience and the judgment made by the
subject. Thus, the theory requires us to examine two processes: a sensory
process and a decision process. In a typical signal detection experiment

conducted in the laboratory, the experimenter presents either a faint
stimulus or no stimulus at all; this is the sensory process. The subject is
then asked to report whether or not a stimulus was actually presented;
this is the decision process.
In developing signal detection theory, psychologists realized that there
are four possible outcomes (see Figure 4.4 ). For example, you may be
correct that you heard a sound (a hit), or correct that you did not hear a
sound (known as a correct rejection). Of course, you will not always be
correct in your judgments. Sometimes you will think you heard
something that is not there; psychologists refer to this type of error as a
false alarm. On other occasions you may fail to detect that a stimulus was
presented (a miss). By analyzing how often a person’s responses fall into

each of these four categories, psychologists can accurately measure the
sensitivity of that person’s sensory systems.
Figure 4.4 Signal Detection Theory
Signal detection theory recognizes that a stimulus is either present or

absent (by relying on the sensory process) and that the individual either
reports detecting the stimulus or does not (the decision process). The
cells represent the four possible outcomes of this situation. Here we apply
signal detection theory to a person alone in the woods.
Studies using signal detection theory have shown that whether a person
can accurately detect a weak stimulus appears to depend on a number of
factors (Green & Swets, 1966). First among these is the sensitivity of a
person’s sensory organs. For instance, some people can detect tiny
differences in the tastes of spicy foods, whereas other people experience

them all as “hot.” In addition to these objective differences, there are also
a number of cognitive and emotional factors that influence how sensitive

a person is to various sensory stimuli. These include expectations, level of
psychological and autonomic-nervous-system arousal, and how

motivated a person is to pay attention to nuances in the stimuli. If you
were lost in the woods, your arousal level would be quite high. You
would likely be better able to notice the sound of someone’s voice, the
far-off growl of a bear, or the sound of a car on the road than you would
be if you were hiking with friends on a familiar trail—even if the

surrounding noise level was the same. Why does this difference in
sensitivity occur? Is it due to enhanced functioning of your ears (the

sensory process) or due to you being more motivated to detect sounds
(the decision process)? Research shows that motivational changes are

likely to affect the decision process so that you assume that every
snapping twig is a bear on the prowl. This change in sensitivity has

obvious survival value.
Applying Signal Detection Theory

So far, we have described research about stimuli that individuals
consciously perceive. What about information that stimulates the sensory
organs but is too weak to reach conscious awareness? Could such weak
stimuli still influence our behaviour, thoughts, and feelings? How could
we accurately assess such a phenomenon? These questions abound when
discussing the myths—and the realities—of subliminal perception.
Myths in Mind
Setting the Record Straight on Subliminal Messaging
Do you think that messages presented to you so rapidly that
you couldn’t consciously see them would still influence your

behaviour? In the 1950s, a marketing researcher named James
Vicary suggested such persuasion can indeed occur. Vicary
claimed that by presenting the messages “Eat popcorn” and
“Drink Coca-Cola” on a movie screen, he was able to increase

the sales of popcorn and Coke at the theatre. Although later
exposed as a hoax, Vicary’s claims received a great deal of
attention from both the public and the CIA and spawned a huge
subliminal self-help industry. But does subliminal perception 
—meaning perception below the threshold of conscious

awareness—really exist? And if so, can it really control our
motivations, beliefs, and behaviours?
Numerous companies selling subliminal self-help products

would like you to believe so. However, research by Canadian
psychologists suggests that these claims may be inaccurate.
For example, Merikle and Skanes (1992) tested the usefulness

of subliminal weight-loss tapes. Female participants were
randomly assigned to one of three experimental conditions: (1)
subliminal weight-loss tapes, (2) subliminal tapes for the
reduction of dental anxiety, and (3) a waiting list (no tapes). The
women were weighed before and after a six-week period to see
if the tapes affected weight loss. The researchers found no
difference among the three groups, suggesting that the tapes
were entirely ineffective.
A similar study by American researchers suggests that even if

some improvement were to occur after participants heard
subliminal tapes, these effects may be due to the participants’

expectations (Greenwald et al., 1991). In this study, participants
were given cassette tapes that supposedly included subliminal
messages for improving memory or improving self-esteem.
Importantly, the labels on the tapes varied such that half of the
participants received the correct cassette–label pairing (e.g., a
memory cassette with a memory label) and half received the
opposite (e.g., a memory cassette with a self-esteem label).
Testing conducted after one month of use showed no effects

based on the content of the cassettes. However, there was a
general overall improvement in all conditions, suggesting that
simply being in an experiment helped both self-esteem and

memory (a result similar to the Hawthorne effect discussed in
Module 2.1 ). Importantly, there was also a trend for
participants to believe that the cassettes had produced the
desired effect—but this perceived improvement was for the
ability that was on the cassette’s label, not necessarily what

the participants actually heard. In other words, their
expectations led them to believe that they had improved an
ability even though they hadn’t received any subliminal help for
that ability (i.e., a placebo effect).
The allure of subliminal self-help programs is that individuals

can improve themselves without putting forth any effort—the
subliminal messages will do the changing for the person.
Unfortunately, psychological studies suggest that such effects
are due more to the individual’s expectations than to subliminal
perception.
Fuse/Corbis/Getty Images
Priming and Subliminal Perception
The fact that subliminal self-help tapes are unlikely to turn you into a
multilingual genius with washboard abs does not mean that all subliminal
perception is a hoax. We can, in fact, perceive subliminal stimuli under
strict laboratory conditions. Most laboratory-based studies use a technique
known as priming , in which previous exposure to a stimulus can

influence that individual’s later responses, either to the same stimulus or
to one that is related to it. Indeed, priming by subliminally presented
stimuli has been demonstrated time and again in cognitive psychology
experiments (Van den Bussche et al., 2009). In this type of study,
experimenters often present a word or an image for a fraction of a

second. This presentation is then immediately followed by another image,
known as a mask, which is displayed for a longer period of time. The
mask interferes with the conscious perception of the “subliminal”
stimulus—the perceivers are often unaware that any stimulus appeared
before the mask (e.g., Cheesman & Merikle, 1986). Yet, a number of
brain imaging studies have shown that these rapidly presented stimuli do
in fact influence patterns of brain activity (Critchley et al., 2000). Thus, it
appears that subliminal perception can occur, and it can produce small
effects in the nervous system.
It is important to note that subliminal priming is unlikely to create
motivations that hadn’t previous existed, a grave concern of many people
in the 1950s and 1960s. At best, such messages might enhance a
motivation or goal that we already have. Erin Strahan and her colleagues
at the University of Waterloo examined whether subliminally primed
words related to thirst would differentially affect thirsty and non-thirsty
viewers (Strahan et al., 2002). They found that after viewing thirst-related
subliminal stimuli (the words thirst and dry), thirsty participants drank
more of a beverage and rated it more positively than did non-thirsty
participants (who were not influenced by the subliminal words). No
group difference was found when the subliminally presented words were
not thirst-related. These results demonstrate that although subliminally
primed words can activate an already existing motivational state, they
cannot create a new motivational state. Furthermore, some work on

priming, particularly experiments testing its effects on social behaviour
and how we perceive ourselves and others, has not replicated
consistently across laboratories (Harris et al., 2013). This remains a hotly
debated area of psychology (Cesario, 2014).

Perceiving the World around Us
The study of thresholds, signal detection, and subliminal perception has

given us answers to many basic questions about how we sense and
perceive our environment. But how do we actually form perceptions from
all of this sensory information? The attempt to answer this question has a
rich history in psychology, taking us back to the first half of the 20th
century.
Gestalt Principles of Perception
In 1910, Max Wertheimer was riding on a train from Vienna, Austria, to
Frankfurt, Germany. As he stared out the window at the Central
European countryside, he noticed that the buildings in the distance
appeared to be moving backwards. Wertheimer was intrigued by this
obvious illusion, and decided to investigate the experience when he

arrived in Frankfurt later that day. That evening, he bought himself a
stroboscope, a toy that displayed pictures in rapid succession. He noticed
that individual pictures did not move; but, when presented within a
fraction of a second of each other, the individual images created the
perception of movement. This simple observation had an astounding

impact on the study of perception, and led to the development of the
Gestalt school of psychology.
Gestalt psychology is an approach to perception that emphasizes that “the
whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” In other words, the individual
parts of an image may have little meaning on their own, but when
combined, the whole takes on a significant perceived form. Gestalt
psychologists identified several key principles to describe how we
organize features that we perceive.
One basic Gestalt principle is that objects or “figures” in our environment
tend to stand out against a background. Gestalt psychologists refer to this
basic perceptual rule as the figure–ground principle. The text in front of
you is a figure set against a background, but you may also consider the
individual letters you see to be figures against the background of the
page. This perceptual tendency is particularly apparent when the
distinction between figure and ground is ambiguous, as can be seen in
the face–vase illusion in Figure 4.5(a) . Do you see a vase or two faces in
profile? At the level of sensation, there is neither a vase nor two faces—
there is just a pattern. What makes it a perceptual illusion is the
recognition that there are two objects, but there is some ambiguity as to
which is figure and which is ground. The figure–ground principle applies
to hearing as well. When you are holding a conversation with one
individual in a crowded party, you are attending to the figure (the voice of
the individual) against the background noise (the ground). If the person
you are speaking with is uninteresting, you may attend to the music
instead of what they are saying to you. In this case, the music would
become the figure and the droning voice would become the ground.
Exactly which object is the figure and which is the ground at any given
moment therefore depends on many factors, including what you are
motivated to pay attention to.
Figure 4.5 Gestalt Principles of Form Perception

(a) Figure and ground. (b) Proximity helps us group items together so
that we see three columns instead of six rows. (c) Similarity occurs when
we perceive the similar dots as forming alternating rows of yellow and
red, not as columns of alternating colours. (d) Continuity is the tendency
to view items as whole figures even if the image is broken into multiple
segments. (e) Closure is the tendency to fill in gaps so as to see a whole
object.
Animals and insects take advantage of figure–ground ambiguity to
camouflage themselves from predators. Can you see the walking stick
insect in this photo?
Brian Lasenby/123RF
Proximity and similarity are two additional Gestalt principles that
influence perception. We tend to treat two or more objects that are in

close proximity to each other as a group. Because of their proximity,
people standing next to each other in a photograph are assumed to be a
group. Similarity can be experienced by viewing groups of people in
uniform, such as two different teams on a soccer field or police facing off
against protesters at the 2019 Yellow Vest protests in Paris. We tend to
group together individuals wearing the same uniform based on their
visual similarity.
Some other key Gestalt principles are also illustrated in Figure 4.5 .
Continuity, or “good continuation,” refers to the perceptual rule that lines
and other objects tend to be continuous, rather than abruptly changing
direction. The black object snaking its way around the white object is
viewed as one continuous object rather than as two separate ones. A

related principle, called closure, refers to the tendency to fill in gaps to
complete a whole object.
It is important to note that Gestalt concepts are not simply a collection of

isolated examples. Rather, when put together, they demonstrate an
incredibly important characteristic of perception: we create our own
organized perceptions out of the different sensory inputs that we
experience. The next time you go outside, look at how we create
organized perceptions of architecture, interior design, fashion, and even

corporate logos. All of these examples show how much of “you” is in your
perceptual experience of the world.
The principle of similarity in action. We perceive groups of police (who
are dressed similarly) and protesters, rather than hundreds of individuals.
ALEXANDROS MICHAILIDIS/Alamy Stock Photo
The illusions and figures you have viewed in this section reveal some
common principles that guide how we perceive the world. We can take
this exploration a step further by discussing the cognitive processes that
underlie these principles, a topic that brings us back to the controversial
court case discussed at the beginning of this module.

Backward Messages in Music
Humans are experts at pattern recognition. This ability to detect
patterns is the basis for our ability to understand speech. To

newborn babies, speech is probably a series of nonsense sounds.
With experience, they are able to group together familiar
combinations of sounds that occur frequently in the local
language. This, in turn, leads to the perception of spoken words.

But how sophisticated are these pattern-recognition abilities?
This question is central to the issue of backward messages in
music.
What do we know about backward messages

in music?
The idea that music can contain backward messages has a long
history. Fans have reported finding evidence of these messages in
a few songs from The Beatles. “Messages” have also been found
in 1970s songs by Led Zeppelin and Queen. For example, when

Queen’s song “Another One Bites the Dust” is played backwards,
some listeners claim to hear “It’s fun to smoke marijuana.”
However, most examples of backward messages are due to
phonetic reversal, where a word pronounced backwards sounds
like another word (e.g., dog and god). Indeed, in most cases, the
bands claim to be unaware that any backward messages exist

(although a few bands, such as Pink Floyd, intentionally inserted
messages, oftentimes to poke fun at conspiracy theorists).
Importantly, until the 1980s, few people believed that these
messages could be perceived when the music was played forward

(i.e., properly), let alone that these messages could influence
people’s behaviour. This changed with the Judas Priest lawsuit
discussed at the beginning of this module. In that case, the
prosecution claimed that “backward messages” in the music
caused two boys to attempt suicide. Could psychology research
explain whether these claims were valid?
How can science explain backward messages?

John Vokey and Don Read (1985) from the University of
Lethbridge conducted a series of studies that related to the
backward messages controversy. These researchers recorded a
number of passages onto audio cassettes and then played the
cassettes backwards for participants. They found that people
could make superficial judgments about the gender of the
speaker (98.9% correct), about whether two speakers were the
same (78.5% correct), and about the language being spoken—

English, French, or German (46.7% correct, where chance
performance is 33.3%). However, when asked to make judgments

about the content of the backward messages, performance fell to
chance levels. Participants were unable to distinguish between

nursery rhymes, Christian, satanic, pornographic, or advertising
messages (19.1% correct, where chance performance is 20%).
But, what if the participants knew what patterns to listen for? It is
a common experience that when a backward message is

identified in a song and people are told the message in advance,
they are able to identify it. To test whether such expectations

could influence perception, Vokey and Read asked participants to
listen for specific phrases in the backward messages (these were
“phrases” that the researchers had picked out after repeatedly
listening to the backward stimuli). When asked to listen for “Saw

a girl with a weasel in her mouth” and “I saw Satan,” 84.6% of the
participants agreed that the phrases were perceivable.

One concern with Vokey and Read’s experiments was that the
participants may have been experiencing demand characteristics,

producing responses that they thought the experimenter wanted
to hear. Such an explanation could easily be tested using more

modern technology than was available in the mid-1980s. If
participants listened to audio files using headphones and were

prompted by a question on a computer rather than by an
experimenter, it would help rule out this alternative explanation

of the results.
This minor criticism aside, the results do provide a nice

demonstration of the fact that our perceptions of the world are
influenced both by the stimuli themselves as well as by our own

mindset. For example, the centre of Figure 4.6  can be perceived
as either the number 13 or the letter B depending upon whether

you’re reading numbers (12 and 14) or letters (A and C). This is
an example of top-down processing , when our perceptions are
influenced by our expectations or by our prior knowledge. Reading

“12” and “14” gives us the expectation that the ambiguous
stimulus in between them must be “13.” In the backward

messages experiment, participants used top-down processing to
perceive specific phrases.
Figure 4.6 Top-Down Processing

Is the centre the letter B or the number 13?
Source: Copyright Bruner, J. S., & Minturn, A., L. (1955). Perceptual identification and
perceptual organization. The Journal of General Psychology, 53(1), 21–28. Reproduced by
permission of Taylor & Francis LLC (www.tandfonline.com).
If the participants were not given any directions from the

experimenters and instead simply listened to the music played
backward and tried to detect messages based on the different

sounds that could be heard, they would be engaging in a different
type of processing. Bottom-up processing  occurs when we
perceive individual bits of sensory information (e.g., sounds) and use
them to construct a more complex perception (e.g., a message). As you
might expect, bottom-up processing would occur when you

encounter something that is unfamiliar or difficult to recognize.
Top-down and bottom-up processing can be studied using some

interesting stimuli, such as the image in Figure 4.7 . When you
initially looked at this image, you may have seen either a rat or a
man. Unless you were surrounded by animals or a lot of people,
there was very little to guide your perception of the image—you

used bottom-up processing and were just as likely to have
thought the image was a rat or a man. However, when people
first look at pictures of animals and then look at this ambiguous
image, they tend to see the rat first; if they first look at pictures of
people, they tend to see the man first. Thus, top-down processes
can influence the perception of the image as well. In short, the
way we perceive the world is a combination of both top-down
and bottom-up processing (Beck & Kastner, 2009).
Figure 4.7 Expectations Influence Perception
Is this a rat or a man’s face? People who look at pictures of

animals before seeing this image see a rat, whereas those looking
at pictures of faces see the image as a man’s face.
Source: Canadian Journal of Psychology, 15, 5–211. Copyright ©1961 by Canadian

Psychological Association Inc. Reprinted by permission of Canadian Psychological
Association Inc.
Incidentally, Vokey and Read were asked to testify in the Judas

Priest case in order to explain how their psychology experiments
related to the legal proceedings. Judas Priest was found not
guilty.

These results suggest that we interpret patterns of stimuli in ways
that are consistent with our expectations. Several researchers
have demonstrated that it is possible to form a perceptual set—a

filter that influences what aspects of a scene we perceive or pay
attention to. But, focusing on particular patterns of stimuli also
means that we are not focusing on other patterns; in some cases,
we ignore pieces of information that don’t fit with our
expectations. In the backward messages study, participants had
to ignore many different sounds in order to detect the sounds
that resembled “Saw a girl with a weasel in her mouth.” As we’ll
see in the next section, sometimes our perceptual sets are so

fixed that we fail to notice unexpected objects that are clearly
visible . . . and very interesting.
Attention and Perception
The example of backward messages shows us that what we pay attention
to can affect what we perceive. In fact, in many cases, we are paying
attention to more than one stimulus or task at the same time, a phenomenon
known as divided attention . Simultaneously playing a video game and
holding a conversation involves divided attention; so does using

Instagram and Twitter while you are listening to your psychology
professor lecture, or attempting to text and drive. Although we often feel
that dividing our attention is not affecting our performance, there is
substantial evidence from both laboratory and real-world studies telling
us otherwise (Pashler, 1998; Stevenson et al., 2013).
In contrast, selective attention  involves focusing on one particular event or
task, such as focused studying, driving without distraction, or attentively
listening to music or watching a movie. In this case, you are paying more
attention to one part of your environment so that you can accurately

sense and perceive the information it might provide (e.g., watching the
road while driving). While useful, this process comes at a cost—your
perception of other parts of your environment suffers (e.g., you don’t
notice the birds in the trees, or you walk into a fountain in the mall
because you’re focused on texting). Most of the time, selective attention is
quite beneficial; however, there are times when this focus is so powerful
that we fail to perceive some very obvious things.

Imagine you are watching your favourite team play basketball. You’re a
big fan of a particular player and are intently watching their every move.
Would you notice if a person in a gorilla suit ran onto the court for a few
seconds? Most people would say “yes.” However, psychological research
suggests otherwise. Missing the obvious can be surprisingly easy—
especially if you are focused on just one particular aspect of your
environment. For example, researchers asked undergraduate students to
watch a video of students dressed in white t-shirts actively moving
around while passing a ball to one another. The participants’ task was to
count the number of times the ball was passed. To complicate matters,
there were also students in black t-shirts doing the same thing with
another ball; however, the participants were instructed to ignore them.
This is a top-down task because the participants selectively attended to a
single set of events. The participants in this study found the task very
easy; most were able to accurately count the number of passes, give or
take a few.
But what if a student wearing a gorilla suit walked through the video,
stopped, pounded her chest, and walked off screen? Who could miss that?
Surprisingly, about half the participants failed to even notice the gorilla
(Simons & Chabris, 1999). This number was even higher in elderly
populations (Graham & Burke, 2011). This result is an example of
inattentional blindness , a failure to notice clearly visible events or objects

because attention is directed elsewhere (Mack & Rock, 1998). You can
imagine how shocked the participants were when they watched the film
again without selectively attending to one thing and realized they had
completely missed the gorilla. Inattentional blindness shows that when

we focus on a limited number of features, we might not pay much
attention to anything else.
Inattentional blindness accounts for many common phenomena. For
example, people who witness automobile accidents or criminal behaviour

may offer faulty or incomplete testimony. In sports, athletes and referees
often miss aspects of a game because they are focusing on one area of
action (Memmert & Furley, 2007); inattentional blindness decreases as

expertise with the game increases (Furley et al., 2010). Interestingly,
research conducted at Dalhousie University has shown that stimuli that

were not perceived in an inattentional blindness study still influenced
performance on later memory tasks, suggesting that these stimuli can in

fact influence our perceptual system (Butler & Klein, 2009). Although this
doesn’t necessarily mean that referees will be haunted by missed calls, it
does mean that the refs weren’t blind—just inattentionally blind.
Do you think you would fail to notice the student in the gorilla suit at a
basketball game (top photo, Simons & Chabris, 1999)?
Source: Simons, D. J., & Chabris, C. F. (1999). Gorillas in our midst: Sustained inattentional
blindness for dynamic events. Perception, 28, 1059–1074. Figure provided by Daniel Simons.
Reading about inattentional blindness might lead you to question

whether our attentional and perceptual systems work well at all.
However, as you will see in the modules in this text our systems for
sensing and perceiving are highly complex and adaptive, imperfect as
they may be at times.

Psychologist Anthony Barnhart conducts experiments on attention using
simple magic tricks as stimuli. In this study, participants watched a video
of him placing two napkins on the table, the one on his right covering a
coin (as shown in the first two photos). After covering each napkin with a
coffee cup, he reveals that the coin is no longer under the napkin on the
right—it has moved to the left. As the trick unfolds, Barnhart records
participant’s eye movements to measure what they spend the most time
watching. The compiled results are shown in the third photo, with the red
area indicating the greatest level of attention. This image shows the
crucial moment where he slides the coin from one side to another; most
participants did not notice because they were focused on the cup—an
instance of inattentional blindness.
Source: Barnhart & Goldinger, 2014

Module 4.1 Summary
4.1a Know . . . the key terminology of sensation and perception.
Review Module 4.1
4.1b Understand . . . what stimulus thresholds are.
Stimulus thresholds can be either absolute (the minimum amount of

energy to notice a stimulus) or based on difference (the minimum change
between stimuli required to notice they are different).

4.1c Understand . . . the principles of Gestalt psychology.
A key principle of Gestalt psychology is that although the individual parts
of a stimulus may have little meaning on their own, these parts can be
grouped together in ways that are perceived as distinct patterns or
objects. For instance, individual stimuli can be grouped together
according to principles of figure and ground, proximity, similarity,
continuity, and closure.
4.1d Apply . . . your knowledge of signal detection theory to

identify hits, misses, and correct responses in examples.
Apply Activity
For practice, consider Figure 4.4 , along with this example: Imagine a
student is taking a new route to class in order to avoid running into an
acquaintance who insists on sharing every detail of their previous
evening. The student bristles at the thought of hearing the familiar call of
their name as they scurry across the quad. Identify which of the four
events (A–D) goes within the correct box; that is, identify it as a hit, a
miss, a false alarm, or a correct rejection. Answers can be found in the
Answer Key .
Hit: False alarm:
Miss: Correct rejection:
A. The acquaintance is not nearby and the student is confident they

did not hear anything.
B. The acquaintance shouted the student’s name, but they did not
hear it.
C. The acquaintance shouted the student’s name, and they heard it.
D. The acquaintance is not there, but the student insists they heard
their name being called.
4.1e Analyze . . . claims that subliminal advertising and

backward messages can influence your behaviour.
As you read in the Priming and Subliminal Perception  section of this

module, we can sometimes perceive stimuli below the level of conscious
awareness, and this perception can affect our behaviour in some ways.
However, as noted in the Myths in Mind feature , research suggests that
subliminal advertising has little effect on our consumer behaviour.

Similarly, studies of backward messages in music have shown that
individuals typically do not perceive the meaning of these messages

unless they are specifically told what they should listen for, suggesting that the
devil in heavy metal music is really just top-down processing.

Module 4.2 The Visual System
James Gourley/Shutterstock
4.2a Know . . . the key terminology relating to the eye and vision.
4.2b Understand . . . how visual information travels from the eye
through the brain to give us the experience of sight.
4.2c Understand . . . the theories of colour vision.
4.2d Apply . . . your knowledge to explain how we perceive depth in
our visual field.
4.2e Analyze . . . how we perceive objects and faces.
On Canada Day in 2015, Canadian tennis star Milos Raonic hit a serve
that was clocked at 233 km/h (145 mph) against his opponent, German
Tommy Haas. At the time, it was the third fastest serve in the 138-year
history of the Wimbledon championship. Remarkably, Haas managed
to return the serve, although he ended up losing the point to the
powerful Canadian. Although spectators were impressed by the skill
and athleticism of both athletes on that sunny July afternoon, they were
also witness to something equally stunning: the power and complexity
of the human visual system.
In order for Haas to return Raonic’s serve, he had to identify a

yellowish-green tennis ball against a dark green background, follow the
ball as it landed on a light-green grass-court surface, and track its

trajectory as it bounced toward him. Doing so required him to be able to
perceive different colours, perceive and identify particular objects in his

visual field, and perceive motion. Haas’s visual system also had to work
with his motoric (movement) system so that he could move his racquet
(and thus his hand and arm) in order to return the serve. That all of this
took place in a fraction of a second is especially remarkable.
Although both Raonic and Haas are professional athletes, their
exceptional visual abilities did not develop overnight; they are the
product of years of training. Vision—and the movements and cognition
that go with it—is something we fine-tune with experience.

The world is a visual place to most humans. We use vision to navigate
through beautiful landscapes, city centres, and the interiors of buildings.
We also use vision to communicate via facial expressions and the written
word (such as this text, which you undoubtedly photocopy and tape to
your bedroom walls). In this module, we explore how vision works—

starting out as patterns of light entering the eye, and ending up as a
complex, perceptual experience. We begin with an overview of the basic

physical structures of the eye and brain that make vision possible, and
then discuss the experience of seeing.
The Human Eye
The eye is one of the most remarkable of the human body’s physical
structures. It senses an amazing array of information, translates that
information into neural impulses, and transfers it to the brain for complex
perceptual processing. To ensure that this sequence of events begins
correctly, the eye needs specialized structures that allow us to regulate

how much light comes in, to respond to different wavelengths of light, to
maintain a focus on the most important objects in a scene, and to turn
physical energy into action potentials, the method by which information
is transmitted in the brain.

How the Eye Gathers Light
The primary function of the eye is to gather light and change it into an
action potential. But “light” itself is quite complex. Although physicists
have written vast tomes on the topic of light, for the purposes of human
perception, “light” actually refers to radiation that occupies a relatively
narrow band of the electromagnetic spectrum, shown in Figure 4.8a .

Light travels in waves that vary in terms of two different properties:
length and amplitude. The term wavelength refers to the distance between
peaks of a wave—differences in wavelength correspond to different
colours on the electromagnetic spectrum. As you can see from Figure
4.8a , long wavelengths correspond to our perception of reddish colours

and short wavelengths correspond to our perception of bluish colours.
The different shades of green found in the tennis match described in the
opening of this module would represent wavelengths of light in between
the wavelengths of red and blue. Interestingly, some organisms, such as
bees, can see ultraviolet light and some reptiles can see infrared light.
These interspecies differences are likely due to the different evolutionary
demands these species have faced. What pressures do you think led
humans to develop their specific visual system? Although no one can
answer this question with absolute certainty, some researchers have
suggested that our red–green vision allowed us to distinguish between
types of edible vegetation (Regan et al., 2001).
Figure 4.8 Light Waves in the Electromagnetic Spectrum

(a) The electromagnetic spectrum: When white light travels through a
prism, the bending of the light reveals the visible light spectrum. The
visible spectrum falls within a continuum of other waves of the
electromagnetic spectrum. (b) Wavelength is measured by distance
between the peaks (or the troughs) of the waves.
Source: Ciccarelli, Saundra K.; White, J. Noland, Psychology: An Exploration, 1st Ed., ©2010, p. 79.
Reprinted and Electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Wavelength is not the only characteristic that is important for vision.

Amplitude refers to the height of a wave (see Figure 4.8b ). Low-
amplitude waves are seen as dim colours, whereas high-amplitude waves

are seen as bright colours. Light waves can also differ in terms of how
many different wavelengths are being viewed at once. When you look at
a clear blue sky, you are viewing many different wavelengths of light at
the same time—but the blue wavelengths are more prevalent and
therefore dominate your impression; when our visual angle to the sun
changes at dusk, different light frequencies are more apparent, giving the
sky a reddish colour. If a large proportion of the light waves are clustered
around one wavelength, you will see an intense, vivid colour. If there are
a large variety of wavelengths being viewed at the same time, the colour
will appear to be “washed out.” Figure 4.9  depicts these characteristics
of light—wavelength, amplitude, and purity—as we generally perceive

them. These characteristics of light will be experienced by us as hue
(colour of the spectrum), intensity (brightness), and saturation
(colourfulness). Saturation can also be thought of as the purity of a

colour; think of a freshly made red brick next to one that has faded from
prolonged exposure to the elements. It is in the eye that this

transformation from sensation to perception takes place.
Figure 4.9 Hue, Intensity, and Saturation
Colours vary by hue (colour), intensity (brightness), and saturation

(colourfulness or “purity”).
The Structure of the Eye
The eye consists of specialized structures that regulate the amount of light
that enters the eye and organizes it into a pattern that the brain can
interpret (see Figure 4.10 ). The sclera  is the white, outer surface of the
eye and the cornea  is the clear layer that covers the front portion of the eye
and also contributes to the eye’s ability to focus. Light enters the eye through
the cornea and passes through an opening called the pupil. The pupil 
regulates the amount of light that enters by changing its size; it dilates (expands)
to allow more light to enter and constricts (shrinks) to allow less light into the
eye. The changes in the pupil’s size are performed by the iris , a round
muscle that adjusts the size of the pupil; it also gives the eyes their characteristic
colour. Behind the pupil is the lens , a clear structure that focuses light onto
the back of the eye. The lens can change its shape to ensure that the light
entering the eye is refracted in such a way that it is focused when it
reaches the back of the eye. This process is known as accommodation.
When the light reaches the back of the eye, it will stimulate a layer of
specialized receptors that convert light into a message that the brain can
then interpret, a process known as transduction (see Module 4.1 ). These
receptors are part of a complex structure known as the retina.
Figure 4.10 The Human Eye and Its Structures

Notice how the lens inverts the image that appears on the retina (see
inset). The visual centres of the brain correct the inversion.
Watch The Structure of the Eye

The retina  lines the inner surface of the back of the eye and consists of
specialized receptors that absorb light and send signals related to the properties
of light to the brain. The retina contains a number of layers, each

performing a slightly different function. At the back of the retina are
specialized receptors called photoreceptors. These receptors, which will be

discussed in more depth shortly, are where light will be transformed into
a neural signal that the brain can understand. It may seem strange that
light would stimulate the deepest layer of the retina, with the neural
signal then turning around and moving forward in the eye (see Figure
4.11 ); however, there is a reason for this backward design. Having the
photoreceptors wedged into the back of the eye protects them and
provides them with a constant blood supply, both of which are useful to
your ability to see. There is another reason why the eye appears to have a
backward design. Intermixed within the nerve cells in front of the retina
are specialized glial cells that help gather and guide light to targeted areas
of the retina. These cells help optimize our ability to see colour in
daytime conditions (Labin & Ribak, 2010).
Figure 4.11 Arrangement of Photoreceptors in the Retina

Bipolar and ganglion cells collect messages from the light-sensitive
photoreceptors and converge on the optic nerve, which then carries the
messages to the brain.
Source: Ciccarelli, Saundra K.; White, J. Noland, Psychology: An Exploration, 1st Ed., ©2010, p. 81.
Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Information from the photoreceptors at the back of the retina is
transmitted to the ganglion cells closer to the front of the retina. The
ganglion cells gather up information from the photoreceptors; this
information will then alter the rate at which the ganglion cells fire. The
activity of all of the ganglion cells is then sent out of the eye through the
optic nerve , a dense bundle of fibres that connect to the brain. This nerve
presents a challenge to the brain. Because it travels through the back of
the eye, it creates an area on the retina with no photoreceptors, called the
optic disc. The result is a blind spot—a space in the retina that lacks
photoreceptors. You can discover your own blind spot by performing the
activity described in Figure 4.12 .
Figure 4.12 Finding Your Blind Spot
To find your blind spot, close your left eye and, with your right eye, fix
your gaze on the + in the green square. Slowly move closer to the screen.
When the screen is approximately 15 cm (6 inches) away, you will notice
that the black dot on the right disappears because of your blind spot. Not
only does the black dot disappear, but its vacancy is replaced by yellow:
The brain “fills it in” for you.
The blind spot illustrates just how distinct the processes of sensation and
perception are. Why do we fail to notice a completely blank area of our
visual field? If we consider only the process of sensation, we cannot
answer this question. We have to invoke perception: The visual areas of
the brain are able to “fill in” the missing information for us
(Ramachandran & Gregory, 1991). Not only does the brain fill in the
missing information, but it does so in context. Thus, once the black dot at
the right of Figure 4.12  reaches the blind spot, the brain automatically
fills in the vacancy with yellow.

The Retina: From Light to Nerve Impulse
Now that you have read an overview of the eye’s structures, we can ask
an important question: How can the firing of millions of little
photoreceptors in the retina produce vivid visual experiences like seeing
white-clad tennis players running around a light-green court surrounded
by thousands of spectators wearing clothes in a variety of colours? The

simple answer is that not all photoreceptors are the same. There are two
general types of photoreceptors—rods and cones—each of which responds
to different characteristics of light. Rods  are photoreceptors that occupy
peripheral regions of the retina; they are highly sensitive under low light levels
(see Figure 4.13 ). This type of sensitivity makes rods particularly
responsive to black and grey. In contrast, cones  are photoreceptors that
are sensitive to the different wavelengths of light that we perceive as colour.
Cones tend to be clustered around the fovea , the central region of the
retina.
Figure 4.13 Distribution of Rods and Cones on the Retina

Cones are concentrated at the fovea, the centre of the retina, while rods
are more abundant in the periphery. There are approximately 120 million
rods and approximately 6 to 8 million cones in the adult retina.
When the rods and cones are stimulated by light, their physical structure
briefly changes, which alters the activity of neurons in the different layers
of the retina. The final layer to receive this changed input consists of
ganglion cells, which will eventually output to the optic nerve.
Interestingly, the ratio of ganglion cells to cones in the fovea is

approximately one to one; in contrast, there are roughly 10 rods for every
ganglion cell. So, all of the input from a cone is clearly transmitted to a
ganglion cell, whereas the input from a rod must compete with input
from other rods (similar to 10 people talking at you at the same time). So,
cones are clustered in the fovea (i.e., at the centre of our visual field) and
have a one-to-one ratio with ganglion cells, while rods are limited to the
periphery of the retina and have a ten-to-one ratio with ganglion cells.
These differences help explain why colourful stimuli are often perceived
as sharp images while shadowy grey images are perceived as being hazy
or unclear.
In daylight or under artificial light, the cones in the retina are more active
than rods—they help us to detect differences in the colour of objects and

to discriminate the objects’ fine details. In contrast, if the lights suddenly
go out or if you enter a dark room, at first you see next to nothing. Over
time, however, you gradually begin to see your surroundings more
clearly. Dark adaptation  is the process by which the rods and cones become
increasingly sensitive to light under low levels of illumination. What is actually

happening during dark adaptation is that the photoreceptors are slowly
becoming regenerated after having been exposed to light. Cones

regenerate more quickly than do rods, often within about 10 minutes.
However, after this time, the rods become more sensitive than the cones.
Indeed, we do not see colour at night or in darkness because rods are
more active than cones under low light levels.
The phenomenon of dark adaptation explains why we can find our

friends in a dark movie theatre. It does not, however, explain why we
perceive the sky as being blue or a stop sign as being red. Luckily, 200
years of vision research has provided answers to such questions.

The Retina and the Perception of Colours
Our experience of colour is based on how our visual system interprets
different wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum (refer back to
Figure 4.8 ). Colour is not actually a characteristic of the objects
themselves, rather it is an interpretation of these wavelengths by the
visual system. As you learned earlier, the cones of the retina are
specialized for responding to different wavelengths of light that
correspond to different colours. However, the subjective experience of
colour occurs in the brain. Currently, two theories exist to explain how
cells and photoreceptors in the eye can produce these colourful
experiences.
One theory suggests that three different types of cones exist, each of
which is sensitive to a different range of wavelengths on the
electromagnetic spectrum. These three types of cones were initially
identified in the 18th century by physicist Thomas Young and then

independently rediscovered in the 19th century by Hermann von
Helmholtz. The resulting trichromatic theory (or Young-Helmholtz
theory)  maintains that colour vision is determined by three different cone
types that are sensitive to short, medium, and long wavelengths of light. These
cones respond to wavelengths associated with the colours blue, green,
and red. The relative responses of the three types of cones allow us to
perceive the many different colours that comprise the spectrum (see
Figure 4.14 ). For example, yellow is perceived by combining the
stimulation of red- and green-sensitive cones, whereas light that

stimulates all cones equally is perceived as white. (Note: mixing different
wavelengths of light produces different colours than when you mix
different colours of paint.) Modern technology has been used to measure
the amount of light that can be absorbed in cones and has confirmed that
each type responds to different wavelengths. Thus, some aspects of our
colour vision can be explained by the characteristics of the cones in our
retinas.
Figure 4.14 The Trichromatic Theory of Colour Vision
According to this theory, humans have three types of cones that respond
maximally to different regions of the colour spectrum. Colour is
experienced by the combined activity of cones sensitive to short, medium,
and long wavelengths.
However, not all colour-related experiences can be explained by the

trichromatic theory. For instance, stare at the image in Figure 4.15  for
about a minute and then look toward a white background. After
switching your gaze to a white background, you will see the colours red,
white, and blue rather than green, black, and yellow. How can we explain
this tendency to see such a negative afterimage, a different colour from the
one you actually viewed? In the 19th century, Ewald Hering proposed the
opponent-process theory  of colour perception, which states that we
perceive colour in terms of opposing pairs: red to green, yellow to blue, and white
to black. This type of perception is consistent with the activity patterns of
retinal ganglion cells. A cell that is stimulated by red is inhibited by
green; when red is no longer perceived (as when you suddenly look at a
white wall), a “rebound” effect occurs. Suddenly, the previously inhibited
cells that fire during the perception of green are free to fire, whereas the
previously active cells related to red no longer do so. The same
relationship occurs for yellow and blue as well as for white and black.
Figure 4.15 The Negative Afterimage: Experiencing Opponent-Process Theory
Stare directly at the white dot within the flag and avoid looking away.
After about a minute, immediately shift your focus to a white background.
What do you see? What colours would you use to create a Canadian flag
afterimage?
Understanding, 2nd ed. ©2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson
The trichromatic and opponent-process theories are said to be
complementary because both are required to explain how we see colour.
The trichromatic theory explains colour vision in terms of the activity of

cones. The opponent-process theory of colour vision explains what
happens when ganglion cells process signals from a number of different
cones at the same time. Together, they allow us to see the intense world
of colours that we experience every day.
Common Visual Disorders
Of course, not everyone can see colours. In fact, many people reading this
book will have some form of colour blindness. Most forms of colour
blindness affect the ability to distinguish between red and green. In
people who have normal colour vision, some cones contain proteins that
are sensitive to red and some contain proteins that are sensitive to green.
However, in most forms of colour blindness, one of these types of cones
does not contain the correct protein (e.g., “green cones” contain proteins
that are sensitive to wavelengths of light that produce the colour red).
Most forms of colour blindness are genetic in origin.
There are also visual disorders caused by the shape of the eye itself.
Changes to the shape of the eye sometimes prevent a focused image from
reaching the photoreceptors in the retina. Nearsightedness, or myopia,
occurs when the eyeball is slightly elongated, causing the image that the
cornea and lens focus on to fall short of the retina (see Figure 4.16 ).
People who are nearsighted can see objects that are relatively close up
but have difficulty focusing on distant objects. Alternatively, if the length
of the eye is shorter than normal, the result is farsightedness or hyperopia.
In this case, the image is focused behind the retina. Farsighted people can
see distant objects clearly but not those that are close by. Both types of
impairments can be corrected with contact lenses or glasses, thus
allowing a focused visual image to stimulate the retina at the back of the
eye, where light energy is converted into neural impulses.

Figure 4.16 Nearsightedness and Farsightedness
Nearsightedness and farsightedness result from misshapen eyes. If the

eye is elongated or too short, images are not centred on the retina.
Understanding, Books A La Carte Edtion, 2nd ed. ©2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced
In the past 20 years, an increasing number of people have undergone
laser eye surgery in order to correct near- or farsightedness. In this type
of surgery, surgeons use a laser to reshape the cornea so that incoming

light focuses on the retina, which produces close to perfect vision. In
nearsighted patients, the doctors attempt to flatten the cornea, whereas in

farsighted patients the doctors attempt to make the cornea steeper.
Although the idea of having a laser fire into your eyes sounds frightening,
approximately 95% of the patients who undergo these surgeries report
being completely satisfied with the results (Hashmani et al., 2017). Seeing
is believing.
It is important to remember that the initial sensations of light that are
processed in the eye itself provide very specific information about the
environment that we are viewing. But, in order for this raw sensory
information to be perceived, it needs to exit the eye and enter the brain.
Visual Perception and the Brain
Information from the optic nerve travels to numerous areas of the brain.
The first major destination is the optic chiasm , the point at which the
optic nerves cross at the midline of the brain (see Figure 4.17 ). For each
optic nerve, about half of the nerve fibres travel to the same side of the
brain (ipsilateral), and half of them travel to the opposite side of the brain
(contralateral). As can be seen in Figure 4.17 , the outside half of the
retina (closest to your temples) sends its optic nerve projections
ipsilaterally. In contrast, the inside half of the retina (closest to your nose)
sends its optic nerve projections contralaterally. The result of this
distribution is that the left half of your visual field is initially processed by
the right hemisphere of your brain, whereas the right half of your visual
field is initially processed by the left hemisphere of your brain. Although
this system might sound like it was designed by someone who had had a
few drinks, it serves important functions, particularly if a person’s brain is
damaged. In this case, having both eyes send some information to both
hemispheres increases the likelihood that some visual abilities will be
preserved.
Figure 4.17 Pathways of the Visual System in the Brain

The optic nerves route messages to the visual cortex. At the optic chiasm,
some of the cells remain on the same side and some cross to the opposite
side of the brain. This organization results in images appearing in the left
visual field being processed on the right side of the brain, and images
appearing in the right visual field being processed on the left side of the
brain.
Source: Ciccarelli, Saundra K.; White, J. Noland, Psychology, 3rd Ed., ©2012, pp. 96. Reprinted and
electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Fibres from the optic nerve first connect with the thalamus, the brain’s
“sensory relay station.” The thalamus is made up of over 20 different

nuclei with specialized functions. The lateral geniculate nucleus is
specialized for processing visual information. Fibres from this nucleus

send messages to the visual cortex, located in the occipital lobe, where
the complex processes of visual perception begin.
How does the visual cortex make sense of all this incoming information?
It starts with a division of labour among specialized cells. One set of cells
in the visual cortex—first discovered by Canadian David Hubel and his
colleague Torsten Wiesel in 1959—are referred to as feature detection
cells ; these cells respond selectively to simple and specific aspects of a
stimulus, such as angles and edges (Hubel & Wiesel, 1962). Researchers
have been able to map which feature detection cells respond to specific
aspects of an image by measuring the firing rates of groups of neurons in

the visual cortex in lab animals (Figure 4.18 ). Feature detection cells of
the visual cortex are thought to be where visual input is organized for
perception; however, additional processing is required for us to
accurately perceive our visual world. From the primary visual cortex,
information about different features is sent for further processing in the

surrounding secondary visual cortex. This area consists of a number of
specialized regions that perform specific functions, such as the perception

of colour and movement. These regions begin the process of putting
together primitive visual information into a bigger picture.
Figure 4.18 Measuring the Activity of Feature Detection Cells

Source: Lilienfeld, Scott O.; Lynn, Steven; Namy, Laura L.; Woolf, Nancy J., Psychology: From
Inquiry to Understanding, Books A La Carte Edition, 2nd Ed., © 2011. Reprinted and electronically
These specialized areas are the beginning of two streams of vision, each
of which performs different visual functions (see Figure 4.19 ). The
ventral stream  extends from the visual cortex to the lower part of the
temporal lobe. The dorsal stream , on the other hand, extends from the
visual cortex to the parietal lobe. Both streams are essential for our ability
to function normally in our visual world.
Figure 4.19 The Two Streams of Vision
Neural impulses leave the visual centres in the occipital lobe along two
pathways. The ventral (bottom) stream extends to the temporal lobe and
the dorsal (top) stream extends to the parietal lobe.
Understanding, 2nd ed., Figure 4.18, p. 139. Copyright © 2011. Printed and electronically
reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., Upper Saddle River, New Jersey.
The Ventral Stream
The ventral stream of vision extends from the visual cortex in the
occipital lobe to the anterior (front) portions of the temporal lobe. This
division of our visual system performs a critical function: object
recognition. Groups of neurons in the temporal lobe gather shape and
colour information from different regions of the secondary visual cortex

and combine it into a neural representation of an object. Brain imaging
experiments have shown that damage to this stream of vision causes
dramatic impairments in object recognition (James et al., 2003). Other
studies have noted that different categories of objects—such as tools,
animals, and instruments—are represented in distinct areas of the anterior

temporal lobes (Tranel et al., 1997). Indeed, researchers have identified
rare cases where brain-damaged individuals show a striking inability to
name items from one category while being unimpaired at naming other
categories (e.g., Caramazza & Mahon, 2003; Dixon et al., 1997); this
deficit only affects the visual perception of those objects (e.g., a guitar),
not the knowledge about those objects (e.g., that a guitar has six strings).
But tools, animals, and musical instruments are not the only categories
that are represented in distinct areas of the ventral stream of vision. One
group of stimuli—possibly the most evolutionarily important one in our
visual world—may have an entire region of the brain dedicated to its
perception.
At this point in the module, we have looked at how we sense visual
information and how this information is constructed by our brain-based

perceptual system into objects that can influence our behaviour, such as a
face or an animal. But our visual system has even more tricks for us.
Somehow, we can identify objects even when they are viewed in different
lighting conditions or at different angles—your cat is still your cat,
regardless of whether it is noon or midnight. This observation is an
example of what is called perceptual constancy , the ability to perceive
objects as having constant shape, size, and colour despite changes in perspective.
What makes perceptual constancy possible is our ability to make relative
judgments about shape, size, and lightness. For shape constancy, we judge
the angle of the object relative to our position (see Figure 4.20 ). Size
constancy is based on judgments of how close an object is relative to one’s
position as well as to the positions of other objects. Colour constancy
allows us to recognize an object’s colour under varying levels of
illumination. For example, a bright red car is recognized as bright red
whether in the shade or in full sunlight.
Figure 4.20 Perceptual Constancies
(a) Shape constancy: We perceive the door to be a rectangle despite the

fact that the two-dimensional outline of the image on the retina is not
always rectangular. (b) Colour constancy: We perceive colours to be
constant despite changing levels of illumination. (c) Size constancy: The
person in the red shirt appears normal in size when in the background. A
replica of this individual placed in the foreground appears unusually
small because of size constancy.
Centre image: Brian Prawl/Shutterstock; right image: FORGET

Patrick/SAGAPHOTO.COM/Alamy Stock photo
The phenomenon of colour constancy recently gained international
attention during “The Great Dress Debate” of 2015. As you may recall, a
photograph of a dress became an international sensation when different
people perceived it as being either blue and black or white and gold. A
large-scale survey involving over 1400 respondents found that 57% of
people perceived the dress as black and blue, 30% saw it as white and
gold, 10% saw it as blue and brown, and 10% readily switched between
colours (Lafer-Sousa et al., 2015). These striking differences in how

different people perceived the dress captured the attention of both the
general public and vision experts. Researchers quickly noted that colour
constancy was a key factor in determining how the dress was perceived.
When we view an object, we naturally try to account for the quality of the
surrounding light. If we view something at dawn, our visual system

attempts to discount some of the redness of objects because we know that
sunrise makes everything appear redder than normal. It turns out that
there are individual biases in which types of light people tend to discount.
Individuals with a tendency to discount bluish light will perceive the

dress as white and gold, whereas individuals who discount yellowish light
will perceive the dress as blue and black (Brainard & Hurlbert, 2015;
Gegenfurtner et al., 2015). Thus, “the dress” helps us demonstrate that
our perceptual biases, along with our previous experiences and
expectations, help structure and organize our visual experiences.
Indeed, all types of perceptual constancy are influenced by our previous

experience with the objects as well as the presence of other objects that
can serve as comparisons. In other words, constancies are affected by top-
down processing (see Module 4.1 ). If we know that a golden retriever is
60 cm tall or that a door is rectangular (or that a dress is blue and black),
our visual system will use this knowledge when it organizes our
perceptions in the brain. This top-down processing is also important
when we have to decide how we plan to interact with the objects we are
perceiving, a function performed by the dorsal stream of our visual
system.
Are Faces Special?
Faces provide us with an incredible amount of social information.
In addition to using faces to identify specific people, we can use

them as a source of important social information, such as
someone’s emotional state. Other people’s faces could therefore
give you hints as to how you should respond to them, or to the
situation you are both in. Given their importance, it seems logical
that faces would be processed differently than many less
important types of visual stimuli.
What do we know about face perception?

Look at the painting in Figure 4.21 . What do you see? When
you look at the image on the left, you will likely see a somewhat
dreary bowl filled with vegetables. However, when most people
see the image on the right, they perceive a face. They can
obviously tell that the “face” is just the bowl of vegetables turned
upside down, but the different items in the bowl do resemble the
general shape of a face. The Italian artist Giuseppe Arcimboldo
produced a number of similar paintings in which “faces” could be

perceived within other structures. What Archimboldo was
highlighting was the fact that faces appear to stand out relative to
other objects in our visual world.
Figure 4.21 Seeing Faces

At left is a painting of turnips and other vegetables by the Italian
artist Giuseppe Arcimboldo. The image at right is the same image
rotated 180 degrees—does it resemble a human face?
Source: The Vegetable Gardener, c.1590 (oil on panel), Arcimboldo, Giuseppe (1527–
93)/Museo Civico Ala Ponzone, Cremona, Italy/Bridgeman Images.
How can science explain how we perceive

faces?
Not everyone sees the faces in Arcimboldo’s painting. In fact,
some neurological patients don’t see faces at all. Specific genetic

problems or brain damage can lead to an inability to recognize
faces, a condition known as prosopagnosia , or face blindness.
People with face blindness are able to recognize voices and other
defining features of individuals (e.g., Angelina Jolie’s lips), but
not faces. Importantly, these patients tend to have damage or

dysfunction in the same general area of the brain: the bottom of
the right temporal lobe. So, although prosopagnosia is a

relatively rare clinical condition, it does help us understand some
basic processes that are involved in perceiving faces.

Brain imaging studies have corroborated the location of the “face
area” of the brain (Kanwisher & Yovel, 2006). Using fMRI,
researchers have consistently detected activity in this region, now

known as the fusiform face area (FFA). The FFA responds more
strongly to the entire face than to individual features; unlike

other types of stimuli, faces are processed holistically rather than
as a nose, eyes, ears, chin, and so on (Tanaka & Farah, 1993).

However, the FFA shows a much smaller response when we
perceive inverted (upside down) faces. In this case, people tend to
perceive the individual components of the face (e.g., eyes, mouth,

and so on) rather than perceiving the faces as a holistic unit.
Figure 4.22  provides an interesting—and somewhat jarring—

visual phenomenon demonstrating this difference in our
perception of upright and inverted faces.
Figure 4.22 The Face Inversion Effect
After viewing both upside-down faces, you probably noticed a

difference between the two pictures. The face on the left probably
seemed as a bit “off.” Now turn your screen upside down and
notice how the distortion of one of the faces is amplified when
viewed from this perspective. The reason the distorted face didn’t
seem as bizarre when viewed upside down is that you likely
focused on the individual components of Beyoncé’s face, none of
which are strange on their own. When you viewed the stimuli as
upright faces, you would have put the different features together
into a more holistic view of Beyoncé’s entire face. At this point,
the distorted face would definitely not look flawless.
PA Photos/Landov
Interestingly, the FFA is also active when we perceive images of

faces in everyday objects, such as when people see images of
Jesus in a piece of toast (Liu et al., 2014). The fact that these
illusory perceptions of faces, known as face pareidolia, also
activate the FFA suggests that this structure is influenced by top-
down processing that treats any face-like pattern as a face.
World-renowned chimpanzee researcher Jane Goodall has face

blindness (prosopagnosia). Despite being face blind, Dr. Goodall
and others with this condition use non-facial characteristics to
recognize people, or, in her case, hundreds of individual
chimpanzees (Goodall & Berman, 1999).
United Archives GmbH/Alamy Stock Photo

Although no one doubts that faces are processed by the FFA,
there are alternative explanations for these effects. One
possibility is that the FFA is being activated by one of the
cognitive or perceptual processes that help us perceive faces
rather than by the perception of faces themselves. One such
process is expertise. We are all experts at recognizing faces.

Think of all of the people that you’ve gone to school with over
the years. Think of all of the entertainers, athletes, and politicians
you can recognize. You have the ability to distinguish among
thousands of faces. Canadian psychologist Isabel Gauthier and

her colleagues have suggested that face recognition isn’t all that
special. Instead, the FFA may simply be an area related to
processing stimuli that we have become experts at recognizing
(Gauthier, 2018). To test this hypothesis, she trained
undergraduate students to recognize different types of a novel

group of objects called Greebles (see Figure 4.23 ). Before
training, these stimuli did not trigger activity in the FFA;
however, after training, this area did become active (Gauthier et
al., 1999). Further support for this expertise hypothesis comes

from studies of bird and car experts (Gauthier et al., 2000). Both
groups showed greater levels of brain activity in the FFA in
response to stimuli related to their area of expertise (e.g., cars for
car enthusiasts). Although this research doesn’t negate the

studies showing face-specific processing in this area, it does
suggest that more research is necessary to see just how
specialized this region of the ventral stream of vision really is.
Figure 4.23 Expertise for Faces and “Greebles”

These images are Greebles, faceless stimuli used to test whether
the FFA responds only to faces (Gauthier & Tarr, 1997).
Participants in these studies are taught to classify the Greebles on
a number of characteristics such as “male” and “female.”
Although this task seems difficult, after several training sessions
participants can rapidly make such a decision. These “Greeble
experts” also show increased activity in the region of the brain
associated with processing faces.
Source: Expertise and the Fusiform Face Area. Reprinted with permission of Dr. Isabel
Gauthier.

The fact that a specific brain region is linked with the perception
of faces is very useful information for neurologists and
emergency room physicians. If a patient has trouble recognizing
people, it could be a sign that he has damage to the bottom of the

right temporal lobe. Indeed, based on studies of prosopagnosia,
tests of face memory are now part of most assessment tools used
by doctors and researchers. The fact that fMRI studies
corroborate the location of the FFA increases our confidence that

such tools are in fact valid.
The Dorsal Stream
The dorsal stream of vision extends from the visual cortex in our occipital
lobe upwards to the parietal lobe. Its function is less intuitive than that of
the ventral stream, but is just as important. Imagine looking at your
morning cup of coffee sitting on the table you’re working at. You
immediately recognize that the object is a cup, and that the liquid inside
of it is coffee, something you drink. You also decide that it is time to have
a sip, thus requiring your arm to move so that your hand can grasp the
mug of caffeinated goodness. Someone with a healthy brain can do this
effortlessly. However, someone with damage to the dorsal stream of
vision would have great difficulty performing this simple function. How
can we explain this impairment?
Leslie Ungerleider and Mortimer Mishkin (1982) suggested that the
ventral and dorsal stream of vision could be referred to as the “what” and
“where” pathways. The ventral stream identifies the object, and the dorsal
stream locates it in space and allows you to interact with it. Although this
description is accurate, researchers at Western University have suggested
that the function of the “where” pathway is more specific (Goodale et al.,
1991; Milner & Goodale, 2006). Their initial research was based on
studies involving a patient known as “D.F.” (in order to preserve patients’
anonymity, their names are never provided in research papers). D.F. was
a healthy middle-aged woman who suffered damage to her temporal lobe
that interfered with the ventral stream of vision. As a result, her ability to
recognize objects was severely impaired; indeed, she could not recognize
letters or line drawings. However, she could still reach for objects as
though she had perfect vision. For instance, when asked to put a letter in
a mailbox, she was able to do so, even if the angle of the mail slot was
changed by a sneaky researcher (see Figure 4.24 ). Goodale and
colleagues correctly hypothesized that D.F.’s dorsal stream was
preserved, and that this pathway was involved with visually guided
movement. So, the next time you reach out to grab your caffeinated
beverage from the table, remember that the “simple” ability to recognize
and reach for the object requires multiple pathways in the brain.
Figure 4.24 Testing the Dorsal Stream
Patient D.F. was able to rotate her hand to fit an envelope into a mail slot
despite having difficulties identifying either object. Her preserved dorsal
stream of vision allowed her to use vision to guide her arm’s motions.
Source: Reprinted by permission from Melvyn A. Goodale.

Depth Perception
Our ability to use vision to guide our actions is dependent on our depth
perception. We need to be able to gauge the distances between different
objects as well as to determine where different objects are located relative
to each other. Without this ability, it would be difficult to return a tennis
serve, drive a car, or even walk through a crowded university hallway.

Information related to depth perception can be detected in a number of
ways.
Binocular depth cues  are distance cues that are based on the differing
perspectives of both eyes. One type of binocular depth cue, called

convergence , occurs when the eye muscles contract so that both eyes focus on
a single object. Convergence typically occurs for objects that are relatively
close to you. For example, if you move your fingertip toward your nose,
your eyes will move inward and will turn toward each other. The
sensations that occur as these muscles contract to focus on a single object

provide the brain with additional information used to create the
perception of depth.
One reason humans have such a fine-tuned ability to see in three
dimensions is that both of our eyes face forward. This arrangement
means that we perceive objects from slightly different angles, which in
turn enhances depth perception. For example, choose an object in front of
you, such as a pen held at arm’s length from your body, and focus on that
object with one eye while keeping the other eye closed. Then open your
other eye to look at the object (and close the eye you were just using).
You will notice that the position of your pen appears to change. This
effect demonstrates retinal disparity  (also called binocular disparity),
the difference in relative position of an object as seen by both eyes, which
provides information to the brain about depth. Your brain relies on cues from
each eye individually and from both eyes working in concert—that is, in
stereo. Most primates, including humans, have stereoscopic vision, which
results from overlapping visual fields. The brain can use the difference
between the information provided by the left and right eye to make
judgments about the distance of the objects being viewed. Species that
have eyes with no overlap in their visual field, such as some fish, likely do
not require as much depth information in order to survive in their
particular environment. These species might also be able to make use of
depth information perceived by each eye individually.
Monocular cues  are depth cues that we can perceive with only one eye. We
have already discussed one such cue, called accommodation, earlier in this
module. During accommodation, the lens of your eye curves to allow you
to focus on nearby objects. Close one eye and focus on a nearby object,
and then slightly change your focus to an object that is farther away; the
lens changes shape again so the next object comes into focus (see Figure
4.25a ). The brain receives feedback about this movement that it can
then use to help make judgments about depth. Another monocular cue is
motion parallax; it is used when you or your surroundings are in motion
(see Figure 4.25b ). For example, as you sit in a moving vehicle and look
out of the passenger window, you will notice objects closer to you, such
as the roadside, parked cars, and nearby buildings, appear to move

rapidly in the opposite direction of your travel. By comparison, far-off
objects such as foothills and mountains in the distance appear to move
much more slowly, and in the same direction as your vehicle. The
disparity in the directions travelled by near and far-off objects provides a
monocular cue about depth.

Figure 4.25 Two Monocular Depth Cues
(a) Accommodation. From the top-left image light comes from a distant
object, and the lens focuses the light on the retina. From the bottom-left
image the lens changes shape to accommodate the light when the same
object is moved closer. (b) Motion parallax. As you look out the train
window, objects close to you race past quickly and in the opposite
direction that you are headed. At the same time, distant objects appear to
move slowly and in the same direction that you are travelling.
Psych@
The Artist’s Studio
Although we may think of painters as eccentric people prone to
cutting off their ears, they are actually very clever amateur
vision scientists. Rembrandt (1606–1669) varied the texture and
colour details of different parts of portraits in order to guide

the viewer’s gaze toward the clearest object. The result is that
more detailed regions of a painting attract attention and
receive more eye fixations than less detailed areas (DiPaola et

al., 2011).
In addition to manipulating a viewer’s eye movements, painters

also use a variety of depth cues to transform their two-
dimensional painting into a three-dimensional perception. This
use of pictorial depth cues is quite challenging, which is why
some paintings seem vibrant and multilayered (like nature)
while others seem flat and artificial. So what are some

strategies that artists use to influence our visual perception?
To understand how artists work, view the painting by Gustave

Caillebotte shown in Figure 4.26 . In this painting, you will
notice that the artist used numerous cues to depict depth:
Figure 4.26 Pictorial Depth Cues

Artists make use of cues such as linear perspective, texture
gradient, relative size, and others to create the sense of depth.
Source: Sketch for Paris, a Rainy Day, 1877 (oil on canvas), pre-restoration (see
181504), Caillebotte, Gustave (1848–94)/Musee Marmottan Monet, Paris,
France/Bridgeman Images.
Linear perspective: Parallel lines stretching to the horizon

appear to move closer together as they travel farther away.
This effect can be seen in the narrowing of the streets and

the converging lines of the sidewalks and the top of the
building in the distance. This effect is nicely demonstrated
by the illusion in Figure 4.27 .
Figure 4.27 The Corridor Illusion

Linear perspective and height in plane create the perception of
depth here. The result is that the object at the “back” of the
drawing appears to be larger than the one in the foreground; in
reality, they are identical in size.
Interposition: Nearby objects block our view of far-off

objects, such as the umbrellas blocking the view of
buildings behind them.
Light and shadow: The shadow cast by an object allows us

to detect both the size of the object and the relative
locations of objects. In addition, closer objects reflect more
light than far-away objects.
Texture gradient: Objects that are coarse and distinct at
close range become fine and grainy at greater distances. In

the painting, for example, the texture of the brick street
varies from clear to blurred as distance increases.
Height in plane: Objects that are higher in our visual field are
perceived as farther away than objects low in our visual

field. The base of the main building in the background of the
painting is at about the same level as the man’s shoulder,
but we interpret this effect as distance, not as height.
Relative size: If two objects in an image are known to be of
the same actual size, the larger of the two must be closer.
This can be seen in the various sizes of the pedestrians.
Interestingly, Harvard neurobiologists recently speculated that

Rembrandt suffered from “stereo blindness,” an inability to
form binocular images (Livingstone & Conway, 2004). He would
therefore have had to rely on monocular cues to form the
perceptions that led to his innovative depictions of the visual

world.
Module 4.2 Summary
4.2a Know . . . the key terminology relating to the eye and

vision.
Review Module 4.2
4.2b Understand . . . how visual information travels from the eye

through the brain to give us the experience of sight.
Light is transformed into a neural signal by photoreceptors in the retina.
This information is then relayed via the optic nerve through the thalamus
and then to the occipital lobe of the cortex. From this location in the
brain, neural circuits travel to other regions for specific levels of
processing. These include the temporal lobe for object recognition (the
ventral stream) and the parietal lobe for visually guided movement (the
dorsal stream).
4.2c Understand . . . the theories of colour vision.
The two theories reviewed in this module are the trichromatic and
opponent-process theories. According to trichromatic theory, the retina

contains three different types of cones that are sensitive to different
wavelengths of light. Colour is experienced as the net combined
stimulation of these receptors. The trichromatic theory is not supported
by phenomena such as the negative afterimage. Opponent-process
theory, which emphasizes how colour perception is based on excitation
and inhibition of opposing colours (e.g., red–green, blue–yellow, white–
black), explains this phenomenon. Taken together, both theories help
explain how we perceive colour.
4.2d Apply . . . your knowledge to explain how we perceive

depth in our visual field.
Apply Activity
For practice, take a look at the accompanying photo. Can you identify at
least four monocular depth cues that are present in the image below?
Thinkstock/Stockbyte/Getty Images
4.2e Analyze . . . how we perceive objects and faces.
Object perception is accomplished by specialized perceptual regions of

the temporal lobe (the ventral stream of vision). Damage to this region
can lead to impairments in recognizing specific categories of objects.
Facial recognition is a specialized perceptual process, which is supported

by evidence from people who are face blind but are otherwise successful
at recognizing objects. A region of the temporal lobe has been identified

that supports this perceptual specialization, though it may also be
involved in recognizing other types of familiar objects.

Module 4.3 The Auditory and
Vestibular Systems
Tomas Hudolin/Shutterstock
4.3a Know . . . the key terminology relating to the ear, hearing, and
the vestibular system.
4.3b Understand . . . different characteristics of sound and how they
correspond to perception.
4.3c Understand . . . how the vestibular system affects our sense of
balance.
4.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of sound localization.
4.3e Analyze . . . how musical beats are related to movement.
Imagine watching an action movie like Black Panther in a movie
theatre with Dolby™ Surround Sound. Your body would feel the
powerful sound waves from the explosions and accelerating aircraft.
Now imagine watching a scary movie with a killer in a Halloween mask

chasing a young couple through the woods. The music becomes louder
and faster, adding anxiety and emotion to the scene. Now imagine
watching these movies with the sound muted. You’ll have lost more
than the sound waves. . .
Sounds have a dramatic effect on our experience of movies (and, to a

lesser extent, television). Paramount among these is music. For
example, can you imagine Star Wars without the familiar John
Williams theme, or a horror movie without tension-inducing music?
The movies would lose their emotional impact almost immediately.

This is because music perception activates regions of the brain related to
emotional perception (Bhatara et al., 2011; Gosselin et al., 2005).

Indeed, in a novel study, researchers at the Université de Montréal and
Concordia University found that patients with damage to the
amygdala, an area of the brain related to the experience of fear, were

impaired in their ability to recognize that particular pieces of music,
such as the theme to Jaws, were scary. Studies such as this imply that in
healthy brains, the emotion centres respond during the perception of
music in order to help us understand its meaning. They also show us
how important the auditory system is to how we experience our world.
In this module we will explore characteristics of sound, the physical
structures that support the sensation of sound, and the pathways involved
in its perceptual processing. We will also examine how music affects
memory and emotion, and how this relationship can influence our
behaviour.
Sound and the Structures of the Ear
The function of the ear is to gather sound waves. The function of hearing
is to extract some sort of meaning from those sound waves; this meaning
informs you about the nature of the sound source, such as someone
calling your name, a referee’s whistle, or a vehicle coming toward you.
How do people gain so much information from invisible waves that travel
through the air?
Sound
The function of that remarkably sensitive and delicate device, the human
ear, is to detect sound waves and to transform them into neural signals.
Sound waves are simply changes in mechanical pressure transmitted
through solids, liquids, or gases. Sound waves have two important
characteristics: frequency and amplitude (see Figure 4.28 ). Frequency

refers to wavelength and is measured in hertz (Hz), the number of cycles
a sound wave travels per second. Pitch  is the perceptual experience of
sound wave frequencies. High-frequency sounds, such as tires screeching
on the road, have short wavelengths and a high pitch. Low-frequency
sounds, such as those produced by a bass guitar, have long wavelengths

and a low pitch. The amplitude of a sound wave determines its loudness:
High-amplitude sound waves are louder than low-amplitude waves. Both
types of information are gathered and analyzed by our ears.
Figure 4.28 Characteristics of Sound: Frequency and Amplitude

The frequency of a sound wave (cycles per second) is associated with
pitch, while amplitude (the height of the sound wave) is associated with
loudness.
Humans are able to detect sounds in the frequency range from 20 Hz to
20 000 Hz. Figure 4.29  compares the hearing ranges of several species.
Look closely at the scale of the figure—the differences are of a much

greater magnitude than could possibly fit on this page using a standard
scale. The comparisons show that mice, for example, can hear frequencies
close to five times greater than humans but have difficulty hearing lower
frequencies that we can easily detect.
Figure 4.29 A Comparison of Hearing Ranges in Several Species

Source: Based on Fay, R. R. (1988) and Warfield, D. (1973).
Loudness—a function of sound wave amplitude—is typically expressed in

units called decibels (dB). Table 4.2  compares decibel levels ranging
from nearly inaudible to injury inducing. Although we doubt you spend

much time beside jet engines, we do suggest wearing earplugs to concerts
to protect your ears, even if they don’t match your always-stylish “I’m a
Belieber” T-shirt.
Table 4.2 Decibel Levels for Some Familiar Sounds

Crowd noise can be a risk for hearing loss. One of the textbook authors
(Smith) attended a Winnipeg Jets’ playoff game in which the noise level
reached 111 decibels.
RENAULT Philippe/hemis.fr/Alamy Stock Photo

The Human Ear
The human ear is divided into outer, middle, and inner regions (see
Figure 4.30 ). The most noticeable part of your ear is the pinna, the outer
region that helps channel sound waves to the ear and allows you to
determine the source or location of a sound. The auditory canal extends
from the pinna to the eardrum. Sound waves reaching the eardrum cause
it to vibrate. Even very soft sounds, such as a faint whisper, produce
vibrations of the eardrum. The middle ear consists of three tiny moveable
bones called ossicles, known individually as the malleus (hammer), incus
(anvil), and stapes (stirrup). The eardrum is attached to these bones, so
any movement of the eardrum due to sound vibrations results in

movement of the ossicles.
Figure 4.30 The Human Ear

Sound waves travel from the outer ear to the eardrum and middle ear,
and then through the inner ear. The cochlea of the inner ear is the site at
which transduction takes place through movement of the tiny hair cells
lining the basilar membrane. The auditory cortex of the brain is a primary
brain region where sound is perceived.
The ossicles attach to an inner ear structure called the cochlea —a fluid-
filled membrane that is coiled in a snail-like shape and contains the structures
that convert sound into neural impulses. Converting sound vibrations to

neural impulses is possible because of hair-like projections that line the
basilar membrane of the cochlea. The pressing and pulling action of the
ossicles causes parts of the basilar membrane to flex. This causes the fluid
within the cochlea to move, displacing these tiny hair cells. When hair
cells move, they stimulate the cells that comprise the auditory nerves. The
auditory nerves are composed of bundles of neurons that fire as a result

of hair cell movements. These auditory nerves send signals to the
thalamus—the sensory relay station of the brain—and then to the auditory

cortex, located within the temporal lobes.
Watch The Structure of the Ear
As you might expect, damage to any part of the auditory system will
result in hearing impairments. However, recent technological advances

are allowing individuals to compensate for this hearing loss. Cochlear
implants are now quite common and have been used to help tens of
thousands of individuals regain some of their hearing. These devices

typically consist of a small microphone that detects sounds from the
outside world and electronically stimulates parts of the membranes in the

cochlea (see Figure 4.31 ). Although these devices are not a perfect
substitute for a normally functioning auditory system, they do allow

individuals to hear low-frequency sounds such as those used in human
speech. These devices are particularly useful for young children
(Fitzpatrick et al., 2011; Peterson et al., 2010), as the brains of children
more easily form new pathways in response to the stimulation from the
implants.
Figure 4.31 A Cochlear Implant
The speech processor and microphone are located just above the pinna. A
wire with tiny electrodes attached is routed through the cochlea.
Carlos Osorio/Toronto Star/Getty Images

The Perception of Sound
It is quite remarkable that we are able to determine what makes a sound

and where the sound comes from by simply registering and processing
sound waves. In this section we examine how the auditory system
accomplishes these two tasks, starting with the ability to locate a sound in
the environment.
Sound Localization: Finding the Source
Accurately identifying and orienting oneself toward a sound source has
some obvious adaptive benefits. Over the course of evolution, failure to
do so could result in an organism becoming someone else’s dinner, or
failing to catch dinner of one’s own. Thus, auditory systems have

developed to allow organisms, including humans, to orient toward
sounds in the environment. This sound localization , the process of
identifying where sound comes from, is handled by parts of the brainstem as
well as by a midbrain structure called the inferior colliculus.
There are two ways that we localize sound. First, we take advantage of
the slight time difference between a sound hitting both ears to estimate
the direction of the source. If your friend shouts your name from your left
side, the left ear will receive the information a fraction of a second before
the right ear. Second, we localize sound by using differences in the

intensity in which sound is heard by both ears—a phenomenon known as
a sound shadow (Figure 4.32 ). If the source of the sound is to your left,
the left ear will experience the sound more intensely than the right
because the right ear will be in the sound shadow. Nuclei in the
brainstem detect differences in the times when sound reaches the left
versus the right ear (Carr & Konishi, 1990), as well as the intensity of the
sound between one side and the other, allowing us to identify where it is
coming from.
Figure 4.32 How We Localize Sound
To localize sound, the brain computes the small difference in time at

which the sound reaches each of the ears. The brain also registers
differences in loudness that reach both ears.
Theories of Pitch Perception
To explain how we perceive pitch, we will begin in the cochlea and work
toward brain centres that are specialized for hearing. How does the
cochlea pave the way for pitch perception? One explanation involves the
specific arrangement of hair cells along the basilar membrane. Not all hair
cells along the basilar membrane are equally responsive to sounds within
the 20 to 20 000 Hz range of human hearing. High-frequency sounds
stimulate hair cells closest to the ossicles, whereas lower-frequency
sounds stimulate hair cells toward the end of the cochlea (see Figure
4.33 ). Thus, how we perceive pitch is based on the location (place) along the
basilar membrane that sound stimulates, a tendency known as the place

theory of hearing .
Figure 4.33 The Basilar Membrane of the Cochlea and Theories of Hearing
Source: “A Cochlear Implant” (Fig. 3.9, p. 104) from Psychology, 3rd edition, by Saundra Ciccarelli
& J. Noland White. Copyright © 2012. Printed and electronically reproduced by permission of
Pearson Education, Inc., Upper Saddle River, New Jersey.
Another determinant of how and what we hear is the rate at which the
ossicles press into the cochlea, sending a wave of activity down the
basilar membrane. According to frequency theory , the perception of pitch
is related to the frequency at which the basilar membrane vibrates. A 70-Hz

sound stimulates the hair cells 70 times per second. Thus, 70 nerve
impulses per second travel from the auditory nerves to the brain, which
interprets the sound frequency in terms of pitch (Figure 4.33 ). However,
we quickly reach an upper limit on the capacity of the auditory nerves to
send signals to the brain: Neurons cannot fire more than 1000 times per
second. Given this limit, how can we hear sounds exceeding 1000 Hz?
The answer lies in the volley principle. According to the volley principle,
groups of neurons fire in alternating (hence the term volley) fashion. A

sound measuring 5000 Hz can be perceived because groups of neurons
fire in rapid succession (Wever & Bray, 1930).
Currently, the place, frequency, and volley theories are all needed to
explain our experience of hearing. When we hear complex stimuli, such

as music, the place, frequency, and volley principles are likely all
functioning at the sensory level. However, turning this sensory

information into the perception of music, voices, and other important
sounds occurs in specialized regions of the brain.

Auditory Perception and the Brain
The primary auditory cortex  is a major perceptual centre of the brain
involved in perceiving what we hear. The auditory cortex is organized in
very similar fashion to the cochlea. Cells within different areas across the
auditory cortex respond to specific frequencies. For example, high
musical notes are processed at one end of the auditory cortex, and
progressively lower notes are heard as you move to the opposite end
(Wang, Lu, et al., 2005). As in the visual system, the primary auditory
cortex is surrounded by brain regions that provide additional sensory
processing. This secondary auditory cortex helps us to interpret complex
sounds, including those found in speech and music. Interestingly, the

auditory cortices in the two hemispheres of the brain are not equally
sensitive. In most individuals the right hemisphere is able to detect
smaller changes in pitch than the left hemisphere (Hyde et al., 2008).
Given this fact, it is not surprising that the right hemisphere is also
superior at detecting sarcasm, as this type of humour is linked to the tone

of voice used (Voyer et al., 2008).
However, we are not born with a fully developed auditory cortex. In
order to perceive our complex auditory world, the auditory cortices must
learn to analyze different patterns of sounds. Researchers have identified
a number of different changes in the brain’s responses to sounds during
the course of development. Brain imaging studies have shown that infants
as young as three months of age are able to detect simple changes in
pitch (He et al., 2007, 2009). Infants can detect silent gaps in a tone (an
ability that may help us learn languages) between the ages of four to six
months (Trainor et al., 2003), and develop the ability to localize sound at
approximately eight months of age (Trainor, 2010). By 12 months of age,
the auditory system starts to become specialized for the culture in which
the infant is living. Infants who are 10 to 12 months of age do not
recognize sound patterns that are not meaningful in their native language
or culture (Werker & Lalonde, 1988); indeed, children in this age group
show different patterns of brain activity when hearing culturally familiar
and unfamiliar sounds (Fujioka et al., 2011). This brain plasticity explains
why many of us have difficulty hearing fine distinctions in the sounds of

languages we are exposed to later in life. Interestingly, this fine-tuning of
the auditory cortex also influences how we perceive music.

The Perception of Music
Because our auditory systems have evolved to be able to distinguish
between different rapidly changing pitches that are important for
understanding speech, we also have a brain that is nicely designed for
perceiving different elements of music, particularly the differences in
sound frequencies that we perceive as pitch (Levitin, 2006). As noted in

the previous section of this module, this function is performed by the
primary auditory cortex in the temporal lobes. Our ability to compare
different pitches also uses the secondary auditory cortex, the brain areas
immediately in front of and behind the primary auditory cortex ( Zatorre
& Zarate, 2010). Both neuroimaging studies and studies with brain-
damaged patients have shown that the auditory cortices in the right
hemisphere are particularly sensitive to nuances in pitch (Hyde, Peretz, et
al., 2008; Johnsrude et al., 2000).
However, music perception requires more than just perceiving different

frequencies. It also uses one of the human brain’s most amazing skills—
the ability to organize information into a coherent structure or pattern.

The Perception of Musical Beats
The next time you listen to music, concentrate on what you are
thinking and on how your body is responding. Do you find

yourself subtly moving with the music? Are you tapping your
fingers or feet to the beat? Do you sing (or hum) along to the
music? Most people are able to perform some or all of these
musical responses, even if they have no musical training. In the

past decade, psychologists have begun to unravel the perceptual
and neural processes that allow us to do so.
What do we know about the perception of

musical beats?
Our brains are pattern-recognition machines. In terms of music,
this ability is most clearly shown by our ability to detect metrical
structure, or groups of stronger and weaker events that we
perceive as musical beats. When we listen to music, most people
are able to detect the fact that certain patterns tend to repeat; as a
result, our brains begin to expect beats to occur at specific times
(Large & Palmer, 2002). This is the basis of our ability to detect
musical beats or rhythms. As a result, we can tap our fingers to
any song we hear on the radio, from Ariana Grande to Arcade
Fire.
This ability to detect rhythms or beats appears to be innate—even
babies can do it! In one study, babies were exposed to a series of
musical beats. Babies showed distinct changes in brain activity
when they heard sound files that skipped a beat (Winkler et al.,
2008). Interestingly, this ability appears to be linked to motion. In
an innovative study conducted at McMaster University, seven-
month-old infants heard a two-minute musical piece that did not
have a difference between a strong beat (e.g., a bass drum) and a
weak beat (e.g., a cymbal). Some of the babies were bounced
every second beat and some were bounced every third beat.
During a later test, the babies heard versions of the music that
stressed every second beat or every third beat. Overall, the
babies showed behavioural preferences for the rhythms that
matched the beats on which they were bounced (Phillips-Silver &
Trainor, 2005). The fact that motion influences how humans
perceive musical beats suggests that detection of these beats
likely involves brain systems related to movement.
How can science explain the perception of

musical beats?
A number of brain imaging studies have shown that perceiving
musical beats leads to activity in brain areas that are involved
with coordinating movements (Merchant et al., 2015). For
example, researchers noted that individual differences in the

ability to detect musical beats are linked to differences in activity
in the basal ganglia (Grahn & McAuley, 2009), a group of brain

structures in the centre of the brain that are related to the
coordination of movement. Additional studies have tried to figure

out if the basal ganglia are involved with discovering a beat or
maintaining an internal representation of a beat, an ability that

would allow the individual to predict future beats once the
rhythm has been discovered. In one study by Jessica Grahn of

Western University, brain activity was measured while
participants first learned a beat (i.e., discovered a beat) and when
participants were familiar with a beat (i.e., maintained an internal

representation). Activity in the putamen, one part of the basal
ganglia, was much higher when a familiar beat was repeatedly

presented to the participants (Grahn & Rowe, 2013).
Importantly, the basal ganglia do not work alone. As with most of

our behaviours, detecting musical beats involves a number of
brain areas working together as a team. When we perceive beats,

there is an increase in connectivity (brain areas firing together)
between the basal ganglia and areas of the frontal lobe related to
the planning of movements (Grahn & Rowe, 2009). In fact, one
study showed that this coordinated brain activity increased as the

beat became more noticeable (Chen et al., 2008); however, more
research is needed before we draw any definitive conclusions.
Can we critically evaluate this information?

Although the evidence linking the basal ganglia to our ability to
maintain a musical beat is compelling, we need to remember that

brain imaging experiments show which areas of the brain are
active; this does not guarantee that these regions are necessary for
a function to occur. We therefore need evidence from other types
of research studies to support this finding. Recently, researchers
found that individuals with Parkinson’s disease—who have

damage to structures that input to the basal ganglia—have
difficulty picking out subtle musical beats (Grahn, 2009).

The basal ganglia is a group of structures in the centre of your
brain. Activity in this region is related to our ability to detect
musical beats.
However, it is still possible that previous experience influenced

these results to some degree. Almost everyone has heard musical
beats; this previous knowledge might influence how we perceive
new beats. Although this problem might seem impossible to
solve, music researchers have found an interesting solution: play

musical beats to animals. To do this, researchers measured the
firing rates of brain cells in monkeys while they listened to
repeated beats and random noise. Greater firing occurred in the
putamen (basal ganglia) of monkeys when they heard a familiar

beat (Barolo et al., 2014). Therefore, there is evidence from
multiple types of research studies linking the perception of music
to brain areas related to movement, specifically the basal ganglia.

The link between musical beats and movement systems should
make intuitive sense to most of you; it’s almost impossible to
listen to music without moving in some way. Musical beats allow

people to synchronize movements with each other, leading to
coordinated behaviours ranging from dancing to rocking a baby
to sleep. Interestingly, this ability is influenced by culture.
Growing up in a given culture leads us to be more familiar with
some musical rules and patterns than others; as a result, people

from different cultures will have different rhythmic expectations
and will therefore be more sensitive to certain musical rhythms
(Levitin, 2006).
As you can see, the detection of musical beats influences many

aspects of our lives. But discussing beats in terms of movement
systems tells only part of the story. Think about the last time you
danced; as you were moving, your body was adjusting its

position so that you were (hopefully) able to avoid falling on your
face. The body’s ability to do so leads us to a discussion of
another role played by the structures found within our ears:
balance.
The Vestibular System
On February 10, 2014, Canadian freestyle skier Alexandre Bilodeau stood

at the top of the moguls course at the Rosa Khudor Extreme Park in
Sochi, Russia. His Russian rival, Alexandr Smyshlyaev, had just amazed
the crowd by performing a flip while grabbing his skis after going over one
of the two jumps on the course. Bilodeau needed to put in an almost

perfect run if he was to repeat as Olympic gold medallist. As he began the
course, Bilodeau maintained his balance while carving perfect turns
around the moguls. As his descent continued, he picked up more speed
and hurtled toward the first jump, which had caused many of his
competitors to fall. Undaunted, he leapt up, performed multiple twists in
the air, and landed with his feet again in perfect moguls stance. He
continued down the course and picked up even more speed before
taunting gravity again with a dazzling display of twists and flips before
racing down across the finish line. The gold was his. When we watch
breathtaking feats of athleticism like Bilodeau’s, it’s easy to forget that
these abilities rely on our perceptual abilities. In the case of freestyle
skiing, the ability to maintain one’s balance is related to the activity of
two structures in the inner part of the ears.

The vestibular system in the inner ear provides information about the
head’s movement and spatial orientation. It is crucial for our sense of
balance. Sports such as gymnastics and freestyle skiing rely on this
system.
Brian Peterson/ZUMA Press Inc/Alamy Stock Photo

Sensation and the Vestibular System
Our sense of balance is controlled, at least in part, by our vestibular
system , a sensory system in the ear that provides information about spatial
orientation of the head as well as head motion. This system consists of two
groups of structures (see Figure 4.34 ). The vestibular sacs  are
structures that influence your ability to detect when your head is no longer in an
upright position. This section of your vestibular system is made up of two
parts: the utricle (“little pouch”) and the saccule (“little sac”). The bottom
of both of these sacs is lined with cilia (small hair cells) embedded in a
gelatinous substance. When you tilt your head, the gelatin moves and
causes the cilia to bend. This bending of the cilia opens up ion channels,
leading to an action potential.
Figure 4.34 The Vestibular System

The vestibular system consists of two groups of structures. The vestibular
sacs detect our head’s position, particularly when it is no longer upright.
The semicircular canals—shown in detail on the left—detect when our
head is in motion. Both structures send information to nuclei in the
brainstem.
Your ability to perceive when your head is in motion involves a separate
group of vestibular structures. The semicircular canals  are three fluid-

filled canals found in the inner ear that respond when your head moves in
different directions (up-down, left-right, forward-backward). Receptors in
each of these canals respond to movement along one of these planes. At

the base of each of these canals is an enlarged area called the ampulla.
The neural activity within the ampulla is similar to that of the vestibular
sacs—cilia (hair cells) are embedded within a gelatinous mass. When you
move your head in different directions, as Alexandre Bilodeau did during

his flips, the gelatin moves and causes the cilia to bend. This bending,
again, makes an action potential more likely to occur.
Although it may seem as though the vestibular system would only fire
when we moved our heads in different directions, the vestibular sacs and
semicircular canals actually provide the brain with a continuous flow of
information about the head’s position and movement (Tascioglu, 2005).

This constant input from the vestibular system allows us to keep our head
upright and to maintain our balance. When you have an inner ear
infection, this stream of input can be disrupted. The result is dizziness

and a loss of balance.
The Vestibular System and the Brain
Of course, for the activity of the vestibular sacs and semicircular canals to
have an effect on our perceptual experiences, they need to transmit
information from the inner ear to the brain. These two parts of the
vestibular system send information along the vestibular ganglion, a large
nerve fibre, to nuclei in the brainstem. Vestibular nuclei can then

influence activity in a number of brain areas. For instance, the panic we
feel when we lean too far back in a chair is likely due to the fact that
vestibular nuclei in the brainstem influence the activity of your autonomic
nervous system (“fight or flight”) as well as the amygdala, an emotion
centre of the brain (Petrovich & Swanson, 1997; Carmona et al., 2009).
The vestibular nuclei also project to part of the insula, an area of cortex
that is folded in the interior of the brain (de Waele et al., 2001; Guldin &
Grusser, 1998). This region helps us link together visual, somatosensory,
and vestibular information. At times, however, this process goes awry.
Have you ever experienced motion sickness, perhaps when trying to read
while in moving vehicle? One reason for this feeling is an inconsistency in
the input from your visual and vestibular systems. The visual input (i.e.,
the words on the page) is not moving, yet your vestibular system is
sending signals to your brain saying that your body is in a moving car.
The driver, on the other hand, sees (and controls) the movement of the
car; he or she therefore has the same movement-related information
arriving from both sensory systems.

This link between the vestibular system and other senses brings us back
to the example of Alexandre Bilodeau, the freestyle skier discussed earlier
in this section. In order to maintain balance, Bilodeau had to receive
input from his vestibular sacs and semicircular canals. But he also needed
to have information about kinesthesis, the sense of bodily motion and
position (see Module 4.4 ). Together, this input allowed Bilodeau to
maintain his balance while he performed his gravity-defying jumps and to
continue skiing around the moguls when he landed. Without these inner
ear structures and feedback from his body, Bilodeau’s trip to the Sochi
Olympics would certainly have been less golden.

Module 4.3 Summary
4.3a Know . . . the key terminology relating to the ear and

hearing.
Review Module 4.3
4.3b Understand . . . different characteristics of sound and how

they correspond to perception.
Sound can be analyzed based on its frequency (the number of cycles a
sound wave travels per second) as well as on its amplitude (the height of
a sound wave). Our experience of pitch is based on sound wave
frequencies. Amplitude corresponds to loudness: The higher the
amplitude, the louder the sound.
4.3c Understand . . . how the vestibular system affects our sense

of balance.
The vestibular system consists of two components: the vestibular sacs
and the semicircular canals. The vestibular sacs note the position of the
head relative to the body. The semicircular canals note when the head is
in motion. Both structures send information to brain regions that
integrate vestibular information with input from other senses; this
process allows us to maintain our balance.
4.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of sound localization.
Apply Activity Your Knowledge of Sound Localization

Source: From Johnson, T.A., Cooper, S., Stamper, G.C., & Chertoff, M. (2017). Noise exposure
questionnaire (NEQ): A tool for quantifying annual noise exposure. Journal of the Academy of
Audiology, 28, 14-35.
4.3e Analyze . . . how musical beats are related to movement.
It seems intuitive that music and movement are related. However, testing
this relationship involves critical thinking. Although brain imaging

studies in healthy individuals have shown basal ganglia activity when
people follow beats, we must remember that this activity does not mean
that the basal ganglia are necessary for beat perception. However, studies
of patients with damage to the basal ganglia, structures in the middle of

the brain related to movement, show that these structures are likely
necessary for us to be able to follow a musical beat. Together, these

studies provide a scientific explanation for our ability to tap our fingers to
the rhythm of our favourite songs.
Module 4.4 Touch and the Chemical
Senses
tuja66/Getty Images
4.4a Know . . . the key terminology of touch and chemical senses.
4.4b Understand . . . how pain messages travel to the brain.
4.4c Understand . . . the relationship between smell, taste, and food
flavour experience.
4.4d Apply . . . your knowledge about touch to describe the acuity of
different areas of skin.
4.4e Apply . . . your knowledge to determine whether you or
someone you know is a “supertaster.”
4.4f Analyze . . . how different senses are combined together.
Would you ever describe your breakfast cereal as tasting pointy or
round? Probably not. Touch, taste, and smell combine together to make
your favourite foods, yet most of us can still identify the separate
components associated with what is felt, tasted, and smelled.
Individuals with a condition called synesthesia experience blended
perceptions, such that affected individuals might actually hear colours

or feel sounds (Cytowic, 1993). For individuals who experience
synesthesia, even letters or numbers may have a colour associated with

them. To illustrate this effect, find the number 2 below:
55555555555555555555555
55555555555555555555555
55555555555555525555555
55555555555555555555555
People who have a type of synesthesia in which words or numbers have

unique colours associated with them find the 2 faster than people
without synesthesia because the colours cause the 2 to “pop out” (Blake
et al., 2005). In some individuals, even the idea of a number can elicit a
colourful response (Dixon et al., 2000). Synesthesia can also involve
blending taste and touch, which certainly can influence dining

experiences. People may avoid oatmeal because it tastes bland, but can
you imagine avoiding a food because it tastes “pointy,” or relishing

another food because of its delicate hints of corduroy? Synesthesia
occurs in an estimated 1 in 500 people. For the 499 others, touch, taste,
and smell are distinct senses.
Generally speaking, vision and hearing are the senses that we seem to be
aware of the most and, therefore, have received the most attention from
researchers. In this module, we will explore the senses of touch, taste,

and smell. Putting them together in a single module is not meant to
diminish their importance, however. Our quality of life, and possibly our
survival, would be severely compromised without these senses. We will
also examine how we combine information from our different senses into
vibrant multimodal experiences, such as when taste and smell are

combined to create a perception of flavour.
The Sense of Touch
The sense of touch allows us to actively investigate our environment and

the objects that are in it (Lederman & Klatzky, 2004; Lederman et al.,
2007). Using touch, we can acquire information about texture,
temperature, and pressure upon the skin. These different forms of
stimulation are combined to give us a vivid physical sense of every

moment. Imagine you’re at a concert. You don’t just hear music. You feel
the vibrations of the bass rippling through you. You feel the heat of the
crowd. You feel other people brushing up against you. And you feel your
own body moving to the rhythm of the music. These sensual experiences
—which seem so social and so distant from the nervous system—are
dependent on the actions of several types of receptors located just

beneath the surface of the skin, and also in the muscles, joints, and
tendons. These receptors send information to the somatosensory cortex in
the parietal lobes of the brain, the neural region associated with your
sense of touch.
Sensitivity to touch varies across different regions of the body. One
simple method of testing sensitivity, or acuity, is to use the two-point
threshold test shown in Figure 4.35 . Regions with high acuity, such as
the fingertips, can detect the two separate, but closely spaced, pressure
points of the device, whereas less sensitive regions such as the lower back
will perceive the same stimuli as only one pressure point. Body parts such
as the fingertips, palms, and lips are highly sensitive to touch compared
to regions such as the calves and forearm. Research has shown that
women have a slightly more refined sense of touch than men, precisely
because their fingers (and therefore their receptors) are smaller (Peters et
al., 2009). Importantly, the sensitivity of different parts of the body also
influences how much space in the somatosensory cortex is dedicated to
analyzing each body part’s sensations (see Figure 3.26  in Module 3.3 ).
Regions of the body that send a lot of sensory input to the brain such as
the lips have taken over large portions of the somatosensory cortex while
less sensitive regions like the thigh use much less neural space (see Figure
4.36 ).
Figure 4.35 Two-Point Threshold Device for Measuring Touch Acuity
The more sensitive regions of the body can detect two points even when
they are spaced very close together. Less sensitive parts of the body have
much larger two-point thresholds.
Figure 4.36 The Sensory Homunculus
Sensitive areas of the body used to acquire somatosensory information

use larger portions of the somatosensory cortex than less sensitive body
parts. The amount of cortex used by each body part is represented in the
homunculus (“little man”) depicted above.
BSIP SA/Alamy Stock Photo
Like vision and hearing, touch is very sensitive to change. Merely laying
your hand on the surface of an object does little to help identify it. What
we need is an active exploration that stimulates receptors in the hand.

Haptics  is the active, exploratory aspect of touch sensation and perception.
Active touch involves feedback. For example, as you handle an object,

such as a piece of fruit, you move your fingers over its surface to identify
whether any faults may be present. Your fingertips can help you
determine whether the object is the appropriate shape and can detect
bruising or abnormalities that may make it unsuitable to eat. Haptics

allows us not only to identify objects, but also to avoid damaging or
dropping them. Fingers and hands coordinate their movements using a
complementary body sense called kinesthesis , the sense of bodily motion

and position. Receptors for kinesthesis reside in the muscles, joints, and
tendons. These receptors transmit information about movement and the
position of your muscles, limbs, and joints to the brain (Figure 4.37 ). As
you handle an object, your kinesthetic sense allows you to hold it with
enough resistance to avoid dropping it, and to keep your hands and
fingers set in such a way as to avoid letting it roll out of your hands.
Touch, therefore, provides us with a great deal of information about our

bodies and the world around us.
Figure 4.37 The Sense of Kinesthesis
Receptors in muscles and joints send sensory messages to the brain,

helping us maintain awareness and control of our movements. Muscle
spindles and Golgi tendon organs are sensory receptors that provide
information about changes in muscle length and tension.
Source: From KALAT. Biological Psychology, 10E. © 2009 South-Western, a part of Cengage
Learning, Inc. Reproduced by permission. www.cengage.com/permissions
Feeling Pain
Of course, not all of the information we receive from our sense of touch is
pleasant. Nociception  is the activity of nerve pathways that respond to
uncomfortable stimulation. Our skin, teeth, corneas, and internal organs
contain nerve endings called nociceptors, which are receptors that initiate
pain messages that travel to the central nervous system (see Figure
4.38 ). Nociceptors come in varieties that respond to various types of
stimuli—for example, to sharp stimulation, such as a pin prick, or to
extreme heat or cold (Julius & Basbaum, 2001).
Figure 4.38 Cross-Section of Skin and Free Nerve Endings That Respond to Pain
The nerve endings that respond to pain reside very close to the surface of
the skin and, as you are likely aware, are very sensitive to stimulation.
Source: Ciccarelli, Saundra K.; White, J. Noland, Psychology, 3rd Ed., © 2012, pp. 96, 109.
Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New York, NY.
Two types of nerve fibres transmit pain messages. Fast fibres register
sharp, immediate pain, such as the pain felt when your skin is scraped or
cut. Slow fibres register chronic, dull pain, such as the lingering feelings
of bumping your knee into the coffee table. Although both slow and fast
fibres eventually send input to the brain, these impulses first must travel
to cells in the spinal cord; the firing of neurons within the spinal cord will
influence how this pain is experienced.
The activity of pathways in the spinal cord can explain several interesting
characteristics of pain perception, including why you feel better if you rub
your toe after stubbing it on your coffee table. One long-held theory of
pain perception is the gate-control theory , which explains our experience
of pain as an interaction between nerves that transmit pain messages and those
that inhibit these messages. According to this theory, cells in the spinal cord
regulate how much pain signalling reaches the brain. The spinal cord
serves as a “neural gate” that pain messages must pass through (Melzack
& Wall, 1965, 1982). The spinal cord contains small nerve fibres that
conduct pain messages and larger nerve fibres that conduct other sensory
signals such as those associated with rubbing, pinching, and tickling
sensations. Stimulation of the small pain fibres results in the experience

of pain, whereas the larger fibres inhibit pain signals so that other sensory
information can be sent to the brain. Thus, the large fibres close the gate
that is opened by the smaller fibres. According to gate-control theory, if
you stub your toe, rubbing the area around the toe may alleviate some of
the pain because the large fibres carrying the message about touch inhibit
the firing of smaller fibres carrying pain signals. Likewise, putting ice on
an injury reduces pain by overriding the signals transmitted by the small
fibres.
The gate-control theory provided an important first step in our
understanding of pain. Updates of this theory have allowed researchers to

explain even more pain-related experiences (Melzack & Katz, 2013). Our
experience of pain obviously involves input from the spinal cord to the
somatosensory cortex—this provides our brain with information about the
location of the aversive stimulation. However, pain is not just sensation

gone awry. Expectations and memory can both increase (or decrease)
your feelings of pain. Attention, too, can influence how painful a stimulus
seems. If you focus all of your attention on the pain, it will feel worse than
if you’re focusing on something else. Pain is also related to emotions;
negative emotions increase the perception of pain (Loggia et al., 2008b),

while positive emotions can provide a buffer against it (Pulvers & Hood,
2013). As shown in Figure 4.39 , these cognitive, sensory, and emotional
factors all interact to influence nociception. This interaction is why the

same painful stimulus might rate as a 5/10 on a pain scale one day and as
a 7/10 another day—cognitive and emotional factors likely differed
between the two days.
Figure 4.39 Multiple Factors Influence Pain-Related Behaviours
Cognitive, sensory, and emotional (affective) factors all influence how we

experience pain. Importantly, pain also leads to multiple behavioural
responses, including stress. This likely explains why different people—
including some patient populations—are particularly sensitive to painful
stimuli.
Source: From Pain, WIREs Cognitive Science, Vol 4, Issue 1, by Ronald Melzack, Joel Katz.
Copyright © 2012 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. Reproduced with permission of John Wiley & Sons,
Inc.
This updated view of pain also helps explain why different people
produce different pain-related responses. Our response to pain isn’t

simply, “Ouch!” It involves the feeling of pain, as well as some form of
movement and an emotional or stress-related response to being in pain.
Many of these responses involve the anterior cingulate gyrus, a brain area
above the corpus callosum that forms networks with many structures in
the limbic system.
Our discussion thus far has focused on how we perceive pain when it
affects our own body. But how do you feel when you see someone else in
pain? And does the pain of other people affect how your own pain feels?
Psychology researchers have begun to address these complicated—and
fascinating—questions.
Empathy and Pain
A running theme of this chapter has been that sensation and
perception involve an interaction with your environment. While

the term environment often makes people think of birds, trees,
and buildings, a key part of our environment is other people. Is it
possible for one person’s somatosensory experiences to influence
those of another person?
What do we know about empathy and pain?

We’ve all seen someone in pain. Sometimes it’s a friend stubbing
his toe on a chair; other times it’s a person rubbing her foot after
stepping on a piece of Lego. Our experience of these situations
differs a great deal. If we see someone we care about in pain, we
experience negative emotions and sometimes even feel pain
ourselves. If it is a stranger or someone we don’t like, our
reaction might be less intense. This leads to several interesting
questions. Are we able to feel the pain of others? Under what
conditions? And how does the presence of another person
influence how we experience pain? Perhaps pain and empathy,

our capacity to share in other’s experiences and emotions, are
linked.
How does science explain the influence of

empathy on pain perception?
The power of emotion in the experience of pain is profound. In
one study, researchers at McGill University asked participants to
immerse their right hand in hot water while viewing emotionally
negative videos (disaster scenes) and neutral videos (cityscape
scenes). Participants rated the unpleasantness of the pain as
being higher when they watched disaster scenes (Loggia et al.,
2008a). These results suggest that the emotional component of
pain can influence our physical sensations, particularly when it
involves seeing the suffering of others.
In another study, these researchers asked participants to feel
either high or low levels of empathy for an actor in a video. The
researchers then measured the participants’ sensitivity to painful
heat stimuli while they watched the actor experience similar
stimulation. Participants who felt empathy for the actor reported
experiencing higher levels of pain than did low-empathy

participants. This result suggests that emotionally connecting
with someone else in pain can influence our own sensitivity
(Loggia et al., 2008b).
Can we critically evaluate the research?

An obvious criticism of research studies involving emotion and
the experience of pain is that the participants may simply be

reporting what they think the experimenters want to hear. If you
were in a study in which someone was manipulating your mood,

you would likely be able to predict the hypotheses being tested in
that study. It is therefore necessary to find additional support for

these self-report experiments. Numerous neuroimaging studies
have found that activity in a brain structure called the insula

(near the junction of the frontal lobes and the top of the temporal
lobes) is related to the awareness of bodily sensations (Wiens,

2005). Activity in the insula also increases when people are
performing empathy-related tasks (Fukushima et al., 2011). Thus,
there might be a biological link between feeling pain and feeling
empathy (Zaki et al., 2016).
Stronger support comes from studies that show an effect of

empathy on pain perception in individuals that are much less
likely to be influenced by the experimenter’s expectations: mice!

When injected with a pain-inducing substance, mice that were
tested in pairs showed more pain-related behaviours than did

mice that were tested alone. But this effect only occurred when
the mice were cagemates with their test partner (i.e., they knew
the other mouse)! Additionally, observing a cagemate in pain
altered the mouse’s own pain sensitivity, suggesting that these

animals are capable of some form of empathy (Langford et al.,
2006). Even more remarkable, some male mice failed to show

pain responses in the presence of mice they didn’t know (a
mouse version of acting tough); this effect, not surprisingly,
appears to be dependent upon the hormone testosterone

(Langford et al., 2011; see Module 3.2 ). Taken together, these
neuroimaging and animal-based studies suggest that our own

pain can be dramatically influenced by the pain of those around
us.

These studies demonstrate that our sensations, particularly pain,
can be influenced by the experiences of other people. Feeling

negative emotions or seeing someone else feel pain makes our
own pain more unpleasant. Although these studies might seem a

bit morbid, they do offer an incredibly important insight that
could affect the well-being of many people. If people can

influence each other’s negative sensations, then it should be
possible to influence each other’s positive sensations. Just as pain

can be “contagious,” so too might happiness and well-being.
Phantom Limb Pain
Astonishingly, it is possible for people to feel pain in body parts that no
longer exist. Phantom limb sensations  are frequently experienced by
amputees, who report pain and other sensations coming from the absent limb.
Amputees describe such sensations as itching, muscle contractions, and,
most unfortunately, pain. One explanation for phantom pain suggests

that rewiring occurs in the brain following the loss of the limb. After limb
amputation, the area of the somatosensory cortex formerly associated
with that body part is no longer stimulated by the lost limb. Thus, if
someone has their left arm amputated, the right somatosensory cortex
that registers sensations from the left arm no longer has any input from
this limb. Healthy nerve cells become hypersensitive when they lose
connections. The phantom sensations, including pain, may occur because
the nerve cells in the cortex continue to be active, despite the absence of
any input from the body.
One ingenious treatment for phantom pain involves the mirror box
(Figure 4.40 ). This apparatus uses the reflection of the amputee’s
existing limb, such as an arm and hand, to create the visual appearance of
having both limbs. Amputees often find that watching themselves move
and stretch the phantom hand, which is actually the mirror image of the
real hand, results in a significant decrease in phantom pain and in both
physical and emotional discomfort (Ramachandran & Altschuler, 2009).
Figure 4.40 A Mirror Box Used in Therapy for People with Limb Amputation
In this case, a woman who has lost her left arm can experience some
relief from phantom pain by moving her intact hand, such as by
unclenching her fist. In turn, she will experience relief from phantom pain
corresponding to her left side.
Understanding, 2nd ed. ©2011, p.157. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of
Researchers have conducted experiments to determine how well mirror
box therapy works compared both to a control condition and to mentally

visualizing the presence of a phantom hand. Over the course of four
weeks of regular testing, the people who used the mirror box had
significantly reduced pain compared to a control group who used the
same mirror apparatus, except the mirror was covered; they also had less
pain than a group who used mental visualization (Figure 4.41 ; Chan et
al., 2007). Notice in Figure 4.40  that everyone was given mirror therapy
after the fourth week of the study, and that the procedure seemed to have
lasting, positive benefits. No one is sure why mirror box therapy works,
but evidence suggests that the short-term benefits are due to how
compelling the illusion is; in the long term, this therapy may actually
result in reorganization of the somatosensory cortex (Ramachandran &

Altschuler, 2009).
Figure 4.41 Mirror Box Therapy Compared to Mental Visualization and a Control Condition
Source: Chan, B. L., et. al., (2006). Mirror Therapy for Phantom Limb Pain, The New England
Journal of Medicine, 357(21), 2206, Massachusetts Medical Society, 2007.
The Chemical Senses: Taste and Smell
The chemical senses comprise a combination of both taste and smell.

Although they are distinct sensory systems, both begin the sensory
process with chemicals activating receptors on the tongue and mouth, as
well as in the nose.

The Gustatory System: Taste
The gustatory system  functions in the sensation and perception of taste. But
what exactly is this system tasting? Approximately 2500 identifiable
chemical compounds are found in the food we eat (Taylor & Hort, 2004).
When combined, these compounds give us an enormous diversity of taste
sensations. The primary tastes include salty, sweet, bitter, and sour. In
addition, a fifth taste, called umami, has been identified (Chaudhari et al.,
2000). Umami, sometimes referred to as “savouriness,” is a Japanese word
that refers to tastes associated with seaweed, the seasoning monosodium
glutamate (MSG), and protein-rich foods such as milk and aged cheese.
Taste is registered primarily on the tongue, where roughly 9000 taste
buds reside. On average, approximately 1000 taste buds are also found
throughout the sides and roof of the mouth (Miller & Reedy, 1990).
Sensory neurons that transmit signals from the taste buds respond to
different types of stimuli, but most tend to respond best to a particular

taste. Our experience of taste reflects an overall pattern of activity across
many neurons, and generally comes from stimulation of the entire tongue
rather than just specific, localized regions. The middle of the tongue has
very few taste receptors, giving it a similar character to the blind spot on
the retina (Module 4.2 ). We do not feel or sense the blind spot of the
tongue because the sensory information is filled in, just as we find with
vision. Taste receptors replenish themselves every 10 days throughout the
lifespan—the only type of sensory receptor to do so.

Watch The Tongue and Tastebuds
Receptors for taste are located in the visible, small bumps (papillae) that
are distributed over the surface of the tongue. The papillae are lined with
taste buds. Figure 4.42  shows papillae, taste buds, and an enlarged view
of an individual taste bud and a sensory neuron’s dendrites and axon that
sends a message to the brain. The bundles of nerves that register taste at
the taste buds send the signal through the thalamus and on to higher-
level regions of the brain, including the gustatory cortex; this region is
located in the back of the frontal lobes and extends inward to the insula
(near the top of the temporal lobe). Another region, the secondary
gustatory cortex, processes the pleasurable experiences associated with
food.
Figure 4.42 Papillae and Taste Buds

The tongue is lined with papillae (the bumpy surfaces). Within these
papillae are your taste buds, the tiny receptors to which chemicals bind.
Understanding, Books A La Carte Edition, 2nd ed. ©2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced
Why do some people experience tastes vividly while other people do not?
One reason is that the number of taste buds present on the tongue
influences the psychological experience of taste. Although approximately

9000 taste buds is the average number found on the human tongue, there
is wide variation among individuals. Some people may have many times
this number. Supertasters, who account for approximately 25% of the
population, are especially sensitive to bitter tastes such as those of

broccoli and black coffee. They typically have lower rates of obesity and
cardiovascular disease, possibly because they tend not to prefer fatty and
sweet foods. Figure 4.43  shows the number of papillae, and hence taste
buds, possessed by a supertaster compared to those without this ability.

Figure 4.43 Density of Papillae in a Supertaster and in a Normal Taster
Some of the individual differences in taste sensitivity may be due to the

number of taste buds found on the tongue. Supertasters (left tongue)
have many more taste buds than the average person (right tongue).
Understanding, Books A La Carte Edition, 2nd ed. © 2011. Reprinted and Electronically reproduced
How much of our taste preferences are learned and how much are innate?
Like most of our behaviours, there is no simple answer. Human infants
tend to prefer the foods consumed by their mothers during gestation
(Beauchamp & Mennella, 2009). Soon after starting solid foods, children
begin to acquire a taste for the foods prevalent in their culture. Would
you eat a piece of bread smeared with a sticky brown paste that was
processed from wasted yeast from a brewery? This product, called
vegemite, is actually quite popular among people in Switzerland,
Australia, and New Zealand. People brought up eating vegemite may love
it, while most others find it tastes like death. The Masai people of Kenya
and Tanzania enjoy eating a coagulated mixture of cow’s blood and milk.
These foods may sound unappetizing to you. Of course, non-Canadians
are often repulsed by poutine, a decadent mixture of french fries, cheese
curds, and gravy, so we should be careful not to judge . . . too much.
Closely related to taste is our sense of smell, which senses the chemical
environment via a different mode than does taste.
The Olfactory System: Smell
The olfactory system  is involved in smell—the detection of airborne particles
with specialized receptors located in the nose. Our sensation of smell begins
with nasal air flow bringing in molecules that bind with receptors at the
top of the nasal cavity. (So, when you smell something, you are actually
taking in part of the environment—including other people—into your

body.) Within the nasal cavity is the olfactory epithelium , a thin layer of
cells that are lined by sensory receptors called cilia—tiny hair-like projections
that contain specialized proteins that bind with the airborne molecules
that enter the nasal cavity (Figure 4.44 ). Humans have roughly 1000
different types of odour receptors in their olfactory system, but can

identify approximately 10 000 different smells. How is this possible? The
answer is that different combinations of cilia are stimulated in response to
different odours. It is the pattern of the stimulation, involving more than
one receptor, which gives rise to the experience of a particular smell
(Buck & Axel, 1991).
Figure 4.44 The Olfactory System

Lining the olfactory epithelium are tiny cilia that collect airborne
chemicals, sending sensory messages to the nerve fibres that make up the
olfactory bulb.
These groups of cilia then transmit messages directly to neurons that

converge on the olfactory bulb  on the bottom surface of the frontal
lobes, which serves as the brain’s central region for processing smells. (Unlike
our other senses, olfaction does not involve the thalamus.) The olfactory
bulb connects with several regions of the brain through the olfactory
tract, including the limbic system (emotion) as well as regions of the
cortex where the subjective experience of pleasure (or disgust) occurs.

Multimodal Integration
Modules 4.2 –4.4  have described our five different, most commonly
discussed, sensory systems. After reading about them, it is quite tempting
to view the five systems as being distinct from one another. After all, our
brains are set up in such a way that it is simple to separate the different
senses. Indeed, the doctrine of specific energies stated in 1826 that our
senses are separated in the brain (see Module 4.1 ). However, this view
is at odds with some of our sensory experiences. Many of these
experiences are actually combinations of multiple types of sensations, just
as they are in individuals with synesthesia, the condition discussed at the
beginning of this module. For example, the perceptual experience of
flavour combines taste and smell (Small et al., 1997). You have probably
noticed that when you have nasal congestion, your experience of flavour
is diminished. You may also have noticed a child plugging their nose
before eating or drinking something that to them tastes bad. This loss of
taste occurs because approximately 80% of our information about food
comes from olfaction (Murphy et al., 1977). This link between taste and
smell is a perfect example of multimodal integration , the ability to
combine sensation from different modalities such as vision and hearing into a
single integrated perception.

What Is Multimodal Integration?
Multimodal integration is so much more than simply combining different
senses. In fact, it’s a form of problem solving performed by your brain
hundreds of times each day. We must decide, almost instantaneously, if
two types of sensation should be integrated into a multimodal perception.
How do we do this? One factor is whether the different sensations are in

a similar location. If you hear a “meow” and see a cat with its mouth
open, you infer that the movements of the cat’s mouth and the “meow”
sound were linked together. We also make use of temporal information.
Sensations that occur in roughly the same time period are more likely to
be linked than those that are not. If you hear a “meow” five seconds
before the cat’s mouth moved, you will not likely combine the sound with
the sight of the cat (unless you know your cat is a ventriloquist).
Multimodal integration occurs quite naturally—we’re often unaware of
these perceptions until some outside force interferes with it. You may
have experienced watching a television show or YouTube clip in which
the movement of the characters’ lips didn’t match up with the sound of
their voices. These perceptions are often annoying because the lag
between the image and the sound makes it difficult to combine the two
into the expected multimodal perception. In fact, sometimes this
mismatch can interfere with perception, even to the point of producing
new perceptions that did not actually occur.

This result occurred by accident in a study conducted by Harry McGurk
and John MacDonald in 1976. These researchers were investigating
language perception in infants and had videos of different actors
producing sounds such as/ba-ba/. However, when the sound/ba-ba/was
presented during the video of someone mouthing the sound/ga-ga/, the
experimenters noticed that it seemed to produce an entirely different
multimodal stimulus:/da-da/. It was as though the movement of the
speaker’s lips provided the viewer with the expectation of a particular
sound; this expectation biased the perception of the presented sounds.
This phenomenon is now known as the McGurk Effect.
Expectations and multimodal integration can also influence our social
interactions. We routinely integrate visual and auditory information when
we are speaking with someone. Researchers have found that both women
and men rated masculine faces (i.e., tough, rugged faces) as being more
attractive when they were matched with a masculine voice (Feinberg et
al., 2008). Other studies have shown that heterosexual men preferred
viewing female faces that were paired with high-pitched rather than low-
pitched voices (Feinberg et al., 2005). Facial expressions of a singer also

influence judgments of the emotional content of songs (Thompson et al.,
2008). These studies show us that we naturally form auditory

expectations when we visually perceive a face.
Synesthesia
If our brains are set up to perceive our senses separately and then
combine them only when it seems appropriate (due to location, time, and
expectations), how can we explain synesthesia, the condition discussed in
the opening of this module? These blended multimodal associations (e.g.,
chicken that tastes “pointy”) do not come and go. Rather, they occur
automatically and are consistent over time (Ramachandran & Hubbard,
2003). Why does synesthesia occur?
This question has puzzled scientists since the first reported case of
synesthesia in 1812 (Sachs, 1812; Jewanski et al., 2009). To date, there is

still no clear answer. Researchers have noted that synesthesia does run in
families (Baron-Cohen et al., 1996). However, the exact genes involved
with this condition are still unknown. In fact, researchers at the
University of Waterloo found a pair of identical twins, only one of whom
had synesthesia (Smilek et al., 2001)!
Synesthetes who experience colours when they see letters or numbers

have stronger connections between brain areas related to colour (red)
and letters/numbers (green).
Source: Figure 4 from Ramachandran, V. S., and Hubbard, E. M. (2001). “Synaesthesia—A window
into perception, thought and language.” JCS, 8(12), 3–34.
Neuroimaging studies have provided some insight into this condition. For
instance, one research group tested synesthetes who have specific colour
perceptions appear whenever they read a number (e.g., every time they
see “2”, it appears with a yellow border). These researchers found activity
in areas of the brain related to colour perception in synesthetes, but not
in non-synesthetes (Nunn et al., 2002). More recent studies suggest that
the brains of people with synesthesia may contain networks that link
different sensory areas in ways not found in other people (Dovern et al.,
2012).
Together, these findings demonstrate a point made repeatedly in this text:
Our experiences involve groups of brain areas working together. This
point holds for all five of our senses, as well as for their multimodal
integration.
#Psych
Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response: When the Internet
Gives you Tingles
Most of the neurological conditions and perceptual phenomena

that you’ll read about in this text were discovered in
laboratories or hospitals. However, there is one perceptual

phenomenon that was “discovered” in the comments sections
of video-sharing websites such as YouTube. In 2010, a number

of people reported experiencing tingling sensations on their
scalp and neck in response to videos that contained

whispering. This handful of internet users quickly grew into a
large internet community. Some of these individuals began to

create videos specifically to elicit the tingling sensations. These
videos were of people whispering softly, running their fingers

gently across tissue paper, or making repetitive noises. The
internet community who experience these tingles—not
researchers or physicians—named their experience the

autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR) , a
phenomenon in which specific auditory or visual stimuli trigger

tingling sensations in the scalp and neck, sometimes extending
across the back and shoulders (see Figure 4.45 ). What makes
this condition so unusual is that many of the stimuli that trigger
ASMR are social in nature, such as whispering or watching

someone slowly brush their hair (Barratt & Davis, 2015). Those
who experience ASMR may report that they find it relaxing or

sleep-inducing. If you do not experience ASMR, you have likely
experienced something similar called musical frisson, which
are the spine-tingling chills elicited during a musical

crescendo. The tingling induced by ASMR elicits activity in
some of the same brain regions that are activated during

musical frission (Lochte et al., 2018). Also, it appears that, like
synesthesia, ASMR is caused by unusual, multimodal

connections between different brain areas (Smith et al., 2016).
Figure 4.45 Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response (ASMR)

Individuals with ASMR experience tingling sensations on the
scalp, shoulders, and back when they hear specific auditory and
visual stimuli such as someone whispering or performing
socially intimate acts such as braiding someone’s hair.
Dmytro Zinkevych/123RF
Source (right): Barratt, E. L., & Davis, N. J. (2014). Autonomous sensory meridian
response (ASMR): A flow-like mental state. PeerJ PrePrints 2:e719v1 https://doi.org/
10.7287/peerj.preprints.719v1.
Module 4.4 Summary
4.4a Know . . . the key terminology of touch and chemical

senses.
Review Module 4.4
4.4b Understand . . . how pain messages travel to the brain.
According to gate-control theory, small nerve fibres carry pain messages

from their source to the spinal cord, and then up to, among other regions,
the anterior cingulate gyrus and somatosensory cortex. However, large

nerve cells that register other types of touch sensations (such as rubbing)
can override signals sent by small pain fibres.
4.4c Understand . . . the relationship between smell, taste, and

food flavour experience.
Both senses combine to give us flavour experiences. Contact with food
activates patterns of neural activity among nerve cells connected to the
taste buds, and food odours activate patterns of nerve activity in the
olfactory epithelium. The primary and secondary gustatory cortex and the
olfactory bulb are involved in the perceptual experience of flavour.
4.4d Apply . . . your knowledge about touch to describe the

acuity of different areas of skin.
Apply Activity
Try creating a two-point threshold device like the one shown in Figure
4.35  by straightening a paper clip and then bending it so the two points
are about 5 mm apart. Gently apply them to different parts of the body—
your fingertips, elbow, cheek, and so on. Which parts of your body are
sensitive enough to feel both points, and on which parts does it feel like a
single object is touching you? Now try the experiment again with the two
points closer together. Can you detect a change in acuity?
4.4e Apply . . . your knowledge to determine whether you or

someone you know is a “supertaster.”
Scientists use a very precise measurement system to identify supertasters,

but one less complicated way to do so is to dye your tongue by placing a
drop of food colouring on it, or by eating or drinking something dark blue
or purple. Next, count the number of papillae you can see in a 4 mm

circle. You can accomplish this by viewing the dyed portion of your
tongue through the punched hole in a sheet of loose-leaf notebook paper.
If you can count more than 30 papillae, then chances are you are a
supertaster. Of course, if you already know that you do not like bitter
vegetables like broccoli or asparagus, then perhaps you would expect to
find a high number of papillae.
4.4f Analyze . . . how different senses are combined together.
Humans have five distinct types of senses. However, that does not mean
that these senses always operate independently—they often interact to

form more vivid experiences. The flavour of food is an experience that
involves both taste and smell. Numerous other studies have shown that
our visual perception interacts with our auditory system, leading us to be
surprised when sounds (such as the pitch of someone’s voice) don’t

match our visual expectations.
Chapter 5
Consciousness
5.1 Biological Rhythms of Consciousness: Wakefulness and Sleep
What Is Sleep?
Why Do We Need Sleep?
Theories of Dreaming
Disorders and Problems with Sleep
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Dreams, REM Sleep,
and Learning
Module 5.1 Summary
5.2 Altered States of Consciousness: Hypnosis, Mind-Wandering,
and Disorders of Consciousness
Hypnosis
Mind-Wandering
Disorders of Consciousness
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Assessing
Consciousness in the Vegetative State
Module 5.2 Summary
5.3 Drugs and Conscious Experience

Physical and Psychological Effects of Drugs
Commonly Abused Illegal Drugs
Legal Drugs and Their Effects on Consciousness
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Marijuana, Memory,
and Cognition
Module 5.3 Summary

Module 5.1 Biological Rhythms of
Consciousness: Wakefulness and
Sleep
Mario Breda/Shutterstock
5.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with sleep, dreams, and
sleep disorders.
5.1b Understand . . . how the sleep cycle works.
5.1c Understand . . . theories of why we sleep.
5.1d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify and practise good sleep
habits.
5.1e Analyze . . . different theories about why we dream.
Franz Kafka (1883–1924) was one of the strangest—and most
influential—writers of the 20th century. His most famous work was a
surreal novella, The Metamorphosis, in which a travelling salesman
awakens one morning to discover that his body has transformed into a
giant insect. He initially assumes that he needs to go back to sleep in
order to feel human again; however, sleep evades him. Instead, the
reader experiences the salesman’s struggles as he adjusts to his new
body, and to his new life as an insect. Although Kafka’s work is

obviously the product of a vivid imagination, researchers have recently
suggested that it might also have been affected by Kafka’s struggles with
sleep (Perciaccante & Coralli, 2016). Kafka suffered from severe
insomnia, a difficulty falling asleep, and often ended up writing

throughout the night. In his letters, he even referred to night as “my old
enemy.” In fact, Kafka himself noted that being deprived of sleep

allowed him access to strange thoughts and images that were not
otherwise accessible to him, but that sleep deprivation affected his

physical and mental health. In this module, we explore how normal
sleep works. We will also explain how sleep deprivation and sleep
disorders like Kafka’s can affect how we act, think, and feel.
Consciousness  is a person’s subjective awareness, including thoughts,

perceptions, experiences of the world, and self-awareness. Every day we go
through many changes in consciousness—our thoughts and perceptions
are constantly adapting to new situations. In some cases, when we are
paying close attention to something, we seem to be more in control of

conscious experiences. In other situations, such as when we are
daydreaming, consciousness seems to wander. These changes in our

subjective experiences, and the difficulty in defining them, make
consciousness one of the most challenging areas of psychological study.

We will begin this module by exploring the alternating cycles of
consciousness—sleeping and waking.
What Is Sleep?
It makes perfect sense to devote a module to a behaviour that humans

spend approximately one-third of their lives doing. What happens during
sleep can be just as fascinating as what happens during wakefulness.
Psychologists and non-psychologists alike have long pondered some
basic questions about sleep, such as “Why do we need sleep?” and “Why
do we dream?” But perhaps we should begin with more basic questions,
such as “What is sleep?” and “How does sleep relate to other biological
rhythms?”
Biological Rhythms
Life involves patterns—patterns that cycle within days, weeks, months, or
years. Organisms have evolved biological rhythms that are neatly adapted
to the cycles in their environment. For example, bears are well known for
hibernating during the cold winter months. Because this behaviour
happens on a yearly basis, it is part of a circannual rhythm (a term that

literally means “a yearly cycle”). This type of rhythm is an example of an
infradian rhythm, which is any rhythm that occurs over a period of time
longer than a day. In humans, the best-known infradian rhythm is the
menstrual cycle. However, most biological rhythms occur with a much
greater frequency than once a month. For instance, heart rate, urination,
and some hormonal activity occur in 90- to 120-minute cycles. These
more frequent biological rhythms are referred to as ultradian rhythms.
However, the biological rhythm that appears to have the most obvious
impact upon our lives is a cycle that occurs over the course of a day.
Circadian rhythms  are internally driven daily cycles of approximately 24
hours affecting physiological and behavioural processes (Halberg et al., 1959).
They involve the tendency to be asleep or awake at specific times, to feel
hungrier during some parts of the day, and even the ability to concentrate
better at certain times than at others (Lavie, 2001; Verwey & Amir, 2009).
Think about your own circadian rhythms: When are you most alert? At
which times of day do you feel the most tired? Night shift workers and
night owls aside, we tend to get most of our sleep when it is dark outside
because our circadian rhythms are regulated by daylight interacting with
our nervous and endocrine (hormonal) systems. One key brain structure
in this process is the suprachiasmatic nucleus (SCN) of the hypothalamus.
Cells in the retina of the eye relay messages about light levels in the
environment to the SCN (Hendrickson et al., 1972; Morin, 2013). The
SCN, in turn, communicates signals about light levels with the pineal
gland (see Figure 5.1 ). The pineal gland releases a hormone called
melatonin, which peaks in concentration at nighttime and is reduced
during wakefulness. Information about melatonin levels feeds back to the
hypothalamus; this feedback helps the hypothalamus monitor melatonin

levels so that the appropriate amount of this hormone is released at
different times of the day. Unfortunately, this carefully balanced system
can be disrupted by artificial light sources, including our “smart” phones.
Figure 5.1 Pathways Involved in Circadian Rhythms
Cells in the retina send messages about light levels to the suprachiasmatic
nucleus, which in turn relays the information to the pineal gland, which
secretes melatonin.
#Psych
Using Your Smart Phone at Night
The typical North American adult spends over an hour a day on

their phones (Christensen et al., 2016). We also tend to use our
smart phones before going to bed, with some people even
checking their phone if they wake up in the middle of the night.

Research into smart phone use has shown that using our
phones in the 30 minutes before going to bed has a negative

effect on the duration and quality of sleep (Christensen et al.,
2016). After reading the previous section of this module, you

can likely guess one of the reasons for this: the SCN responds
to light regardless of whether it is from the sun or from your

phone. Recent research has shown that the blue light emitted
from smart phones and ereaders leads to a decrease in the

production of melatonin (Duffy & Czeisler, 2009; Holzmann,
2010). This change in melatonin disrupts circadian rhythms and
can cause a person to be less alert the next day (Chang et al.,
2015). This is why most sleep researchers recommend that
people avoid the use of smart phones and other glowing

rectangles in the 30 minutes prior to bed (Cain & Gradisar,
2010).
Smart phones allow people to access an almost infinite amount
of information whenever they want it. Unfortunately, using
smart phones at night can also disrupt a person’s circadian
rhythms.
kittirat roekburi/Shutterstock
This discussion of the sensitivity of circadian rhythms leads to an obvious
question: what actually causes us to adopt these circadian rhythms in the

first place? Why don’t we stay awake for days and then sleep all
weekend? There are two explanations for our 24-hour rhythms. One is
entrainment , when biological rhythms become synchronized to external cues
such as light, temperature, or even a clock. Because of its effects on the SCN-
melatonin system, light is the primary entrainment mechanism for most
mammals (Rusak, 1979; Wever et al., 1983). We tend to be awake during

daylight and asleep during darkness. We’re also influenced by the time on
our clocks. If you’re tired at 8 PM, you likely try to fight your fatigue until a
“normal” bed time such as 10 PM. Why? Because we’ve been trained to
believe that some times of day are associated with sleep and others are
not.
However, not all of our body rhythms are products of entrainment.

Instead, some are endogenous rhythms , biological rhythms that are
generated by our body independent of external cues such as light. Studying

endogenous rhythms is tricky because it is difficult to remove all of the
external cues from a person’s world. To overcome this problem,
researchers in the 1960s and 1970s asked motivated volunteers to spend
extended periods of time (months) in caves or in isolation chambers. For
instance, Jürgen Aschoff (1965; Aschoff et al., 1967; Aschoff & Wever,
1962) had participants stay in an underground chamber for four weeks.
He noted that individuals tended to adopt a 25-hour day. Michel Siffre, a
French cave expert, remained by himself in a dark cave for much longer
durations than Aschoff’s participants: two months in 1962 and six months
in 1972 (Foer & Siffre, 2008). Whenever he woke up or intended to go to
sleep, he called his support team who were stationed at the entrance to
the cave. Data from Siffre and a number of his subsequent participants
indicated that most people fell into a 24.5-hour circadian rhythm.

Although a few participants would briefly enter longer cycles—sometimes
as long as 48-hour days—most people possess an endogenous circadian
rhythm that is 24–25 hours in length (Lavie, 2001; Mills, 1964).
Although our sleep–wake cycle remains relatively close to 24 hours in

length throughout our lives, some patterns within our circadian rhythms
do change with age (Caci et al., 2009). As shown in Figure 5.2 ,
researchers have found that we need much less sleep—especially a type
called REM sleep—as we move from infancy and early childhood into
adulthood. Moreover, people generally experience a change in when they
prefer to sleep. In your teens and 20s, many of you have (or will) become
night owls who prefer to stay up late and sleep in. When given the choice,
most people in this age range prefer to work, study, and play late in the
day, and then awake later in the morning (Galambos et al., 2013). Later in
adulthood, many of you will find yourselves going to bed earlier and
getting up earlier, and you may begin to prefer working or exercising
before teenagers even begin to stir. These are examples of changes in

chronotype , the tendency to prefer sleeping earlier or later in a given 24-hour
period. Research shows that these patterns are more than just preferences:
People actually do show higher alertness and cognitive functioning
during their preferred time of day (Cavallera & Giudici, 2008; Hahn et al.,
2012). For example, researchers in the United States found that
adolescents who preferred staying up late rated themselves as feeling
sleepier and as having poorer emotional regulation when tested during
the school day (which starts before 9:00 AM) than “morning people”
(Owens et al., 2016). Importantly, this difference emerged even though

the evening chronotype group (i.e., the night owls) actually got the same
overall amount of sleep as the morning people. At the other end of the
age spectrum, researchers at the University of Toronto have found that
when older adults (approximately 60 to 80 years of age) are tested later in

the day as opposed to early in the morning, they have a greater difficulty
separating new from old information (Hasher et al., 2002) and have a
larger variability in their reaction times on a test in which they learned to
pair together a digit and a symbol (Hogan et al., 2009). These results have
implications for the cognitive testing older patients receive in hospitals;
clearly, these individuals will appear healthier if tested in the morning as
opposed to later in the day, when their bodies are preparing to go to
sleep.
Figure 5.2 Sleep Requirements Change with Age
People tend to spend progressively less time sleeping as they age. The
amount of a certain type of sleep, REM sleep, declines the most.
Source: Based on Ontogenetic Development of the Human Sleep–Dream Cycle, Science 152(3722):
604–619. 29 Apr 1966.
The Stages of Sleep
We have already seen how sleep fits into the daily rhythm, but if we take
a closer look, we will see that sleep itself has rhythms. In order to
measure these rhythms, scientists use polysomnography , a set of
objective measurements used to examine physiological variables during sleep.
Some of the devices used in this type of study are familiar, such as one to
measure respiration and a thermometer to measure body temperature. In
addition, electrical sensors attached to the skin measure muscle activity
around the eyes and other parts of the body. However, sleep cycles
themselves are most often defined by the electroencephalogram (EEG), a
device that measures brain activity using sensors attached to the scalp
EEGs detect changes involving the ion channels on neurons. As you read
in Module 3.2 , ion channels are involved with receiving excitatory and
inhibitory potentials from other cells and are also involved with the
transmission of an action potential down the axon. Each EEG sensor
would receive input from hundreds (possibly thousands) of cells. The
output of an EEG is a waveform, like that shown in Figure 5.3 ,
representing the overall activity of these groups of neurons. These waves
can be described by their frequency—the number of up-down cycles every
second—and their amplitude—the height and depth of the up-down cycle.
Beta waves—high-frequency, low-amplitude waves (15–30 Hz)—are
characteristic of wakefulness. Their irregular nature reflects the bursts of
activity in different regions of the cortex, and they are often interpreted as
a sign that a person is alert. As the individual begins to shift into sleep,
the waves start to become slower, larger, and more predictable; these
alpha waves (8–14 Hz) signal that a person may be daydreaming,
meditating, or starting to fall asleep. These changes in the characteristics
of the waves continue as we enter deeper and deeper stages of sleep.
Watch Stages of Sleep
The EEG signals during sleep move through four different stages. In stage
1, brain waves slow down and become higher in amplitude—these are
known as theta waves (4–8 Hz). Breathing, blood pressure, and heart rate
all decrease slightly as an individual begins to sleep. However, at this
stage of sleep, you are still sensitive to noises such as the television in the
next room. After approximately 10 to 15 minutes, the sleeper enters stage

2, during which brain waves continue to slow. As shown in Figure 5.3 ,
stage 2 includes sleep spindles (clusters of high-frequency but low-

amplitude waves) and K complexes (small groups of larger amplitude
waves), which are detected as periodic bursts of EEG activity. What these
bursts in brain activity mean is not completely understood, but evidence
suggests they may play a role in helping maintain a state of sleep and in
the process of memory storage (Gais et al., 2002).
Figure 5.3 EEG Recordings during Wakefulness and Sleep
Source: Hank Morgan/Photo Researchers, inc./Science Source
As stage 2 sleep progresses, we respond to fewer and fewer external
stimuli, such as lights and sounds. Approximately 20 minutes later, we

enter stage 3 sleep, in which brain waves continue to slow down and
assume a new form called delta waves (large, looping waves that are high-
amplitude and low-frequency—typically less than 3 Hz). The process

continues with the deepest stage of sleep, stage 4, during which time the
sleeper will be difficult to awaken.
About an hour after falling asleep, we reach the end of our first stage 4
sleep phase. At this point, the sleep cycle goes in reverse and we move
back toward stage 2. From there, we move into a unique stage of REM
sleep —a stage of sleep characterized by quickening brain waves, inhibited
body movement, and rapid eye movements (REM). This stage is sometimes
known as paradoxical sleep because the EEG waves appear to represent a
state of wakefulness despite the fact that we remain asleep. The REM
pattern is so distinct that the first four stages are known collectively as
non-REM (NREM) sleep. At the end of the first REM phase, we cycle back
toward deep sleep stages and back into REM sleep again every 90 to 100
minutes. (Think back to the beginning of this module: What type of

biological rhythm would a 90- to 100-minute cycle represent?)
The sleep cycle through a typical night of sleep is summarized in Figure
5.4 . As shown in the figure, the deeper stages of sleep (3 and 4)

predominate during the earlier portions of the sleep cycle, but gradually
give way to longer REM periods.
Figure 5.4 Order and Duration of Sleep Stages through a Typical Night
Our sleep stages progress through a characteristic pattern. The first half of
a normal night of sleep is dominated by deep, slow-wave sleep. REM
sleep increases in duration relative to deep sleep during the second half
of the night.
Source: Based on Some Must Watch while Some Must Sleep by W.D. Dement. WC Freeman &
Company, 1974. URL: http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~kihlstrm/ConsciousnessWeb/SleepDreams/
images/DementSuccession.JPG.
Why Do We Need Sleep?
Sleep is such a natural part of life that it is difficult to imagine what the
world would be like if there were no such thing. It raises another
question: Why do humans and other animals need to sleep in the first
place?
Theories of Sleep
The most intuitive explanation for why we sleep is probably the restore
and repair hypothesis , the idea that the body needs to restore energy levels
and repair any wear and tear experienced during the day’s activities. Research
on sleep deprivation clearly shows that sleep is a physical and
psychological necessity, not just a pleasant way to relax. A lack of sleep

eventually leads to cognitive decline, emotional disturbances, and
impaired functioning of the immune system (Born et al., 1997). It appears
that sleeping helps animals, including humans, clear waste products and
excess proteins from the brains. In a study using rodents, the researchers
found that the pathways of the brain’s waste removal system were
enlarged during sleep, making the removal of these waste products more
efficient. This effect was largest when the animal was sleeping on its side
(Lee, Xie, et al., 2015). Such findings may explain why for some species,
sleep deprivation can be as dangerous as food deprivation
(Rechtschaffen, 1998).
A second explanation for sleep, the preserve and protect hypothesis ,
suggests that two more adaptive functions of sleep are preserving energy and
protecting the organism from harm (Berger & Philips, 1995; Siegel, 2005).
To support this hypothesis, researchers note that animals most vulnerable
to predators sleep in safe hideaways during the time of day when their
predators are most likely to hunt (Siegel, 1995). Because humans are
quite dependent upon vision, it made sense for us to sleep at night, when
we would be at a disadvantage compared to nocturnal predators. The

quantity of sleep required differs among animal species. Hoofed species
like antelope (the species you always see getting killed in nature
programs) sleep less than four hours per day, primarily because they have
to remain alert in case a predator attacks. Conversely, animals such as
lions and bears rarely fall victim to predators and can therefore afford a
luxurious 15 hours of sleep per day. The underlying message from this
theory is that each species’ sleep patterns have evolved to match their
sensory abilities and their environment.
Thus, there are complementary theories that answer the question of why
we sleep. The amount that any animal sleeps is a combination of its need
for restoration and repair along with its need for preservation and
protection. Each theory explains part of our reasons for drifting off each
night. Importantly, both theories would produce sleep patterns that
would improve a species’ evolutionary fitness. Of course, this discussion
of the reasons for sleep leads to an equally important discussion,
particularly for students: What happens when we don’t get enough sleep?
Sleep Deprivation and Sleep Displacement
Chances are you have experienced disruptions to your sleep due to jet lag
or to an “occasional late night” (i.e., life as a student), and we’ve all had
that awful feeling in the spring when we are robbed of a precious hour of
slumber by daylight saving time. We don’t usually think of time shifts as
being anything more than an annoyance. However, researchers have

found that switching to daylight saving time in the spring costs workers
an average of 40 minutes of sleep and significantly increases work-related
injuries on the Monday following the time change (Barnes & Wagner,
2009). The same analysis showed that returning to standard time in the
fall produces no significant changes in sleep or injuries. Similar results

have been noted for traffic accidents. Stanley Coren at the University of
British Columbia found that there was a significant increase in the
number of accidents immediately following the “spring forward,” but not
after the “fall back” (1996a; see Figure 5.5 ). Coren also looked at
accidental deaths unrelated to car accidents (Coren, 1996b). Using U.S.

data from 1986 to 1988, he found a 6.6% increase in accidental deaths in
the four days following the “spring forward” of daylight saving time. A
more recent study using U.S. data from 2002 to 2011 concluded that
daylight saving time led to 30 additional deaths (Smith, 2016).
Importantly, the effects of disrupted sleep aren’t limited to clumsiness; a
substantial amount of research has shown that it can affect our thinking
and decision making as well (Lavie, 2001).
Figure 5.5 Car Accident Statistics for the Years 1991 and 1992
These data represent the number of car accidents on the Monday before,
the Monday immediately after, and the Monday one week after the spring
and fall time changes. Note the dramatic increase in accidents
immediately following the spring time change, when we lose one hour of
sleep. Astute observers will also note that, overall, there were still more
accidents in the fall than in the spring (the y-axes are different in the two
graphs); this is likely due to the inclement weather found in many parts of
Canada in October. Poor weather and earlier darkness are also the most
likely explanations for the spike in accidents one week after the fall shift
(green bar). These data are from the Canadian Ministry of Transport (and
exclude Saskatchewan, which doesn’t observe daylight saving time).
Source: From The New England Journal of Medicine by Stanley Coren, Daylight Savings Time and
Traffic Accidents, 344(14), 924. Copyright © 1996 Massachusetts Medical Society. Reprinted with
permission from Massachusetts Medical Society.
Sleep deprivation  occurs when an individual cannot or does not sleep. In

other words, it can be due to some external factor that is out of your
control (e.g., noisy neighbours) or to some self-inflicted factor (e.g.,

studying, staying up late with friends, etc.). Exactly how sleep deprivation
affects daily functioning has been the subject of scientific inquiry since
1896, when researchers examined cognitive abilities in people kept awake
for 90 consecutive hours (Patrick & Gilbert, 1896). In almost all of the
studies in the past century, the strength of the circadian rhythms was
evident; the volunteers generally went through cycles of extreme
sleepiness at night, with relatively normal levels of wakefulness in the
daytime (especially the afternoon). However, each night saw an

increasing level of sleepiness, likely as an attempt by the body to preserve
and protect the health of the individual from the consequences of sleep
deprivation, such as the degeneration of neurons in the brainstem (Zhang
et al., 2014).
In addition to feelings of fatigue, researchers have discovered a number of
specific impairments resulting from being deprived of sleep. These

include difficulties with multitasking, maintaining attention for long
periods of time, assessing risks, incorporating new information into a

strategy (i.e., “thinking on the fly”), working memory (i.e., keeping
information in conscious awareness), inhibiting responses, and keeping

information in the correct temporal order (Durmer & Dinges, 2005; Lavie,
2001; Wimmer et al., 1992). Importantly, these deficits also appear after
partial sleep deprivation, such as when you don’t get enough sleep (Cote
et al., 2008). In fact, cognitive deficits typically appear when individuals

have less than seven hours of sleep for a few nights in a row (Dinges,
2006; Dinges et al., 2005).
The problems associated with sleep deprivation aren’t limited to your
ability to think. Research with adolescents shows that for every hour of
sleep deprivation, predictable increases in physical illness, family
problems, substance abuse, and academic problems occur (Roberts et al.,

2009). Issues also arise with your coordination, a problem best seen in
studies of driving ability. Using a driving simulator, researchers found

that participants who had gone a night without sleeping performed at the
same level as people who had a blood-alcohol level of 0.07 (Fairclough &
Graham, 1999). A study of professional truck drivers accustomed to long
shifts found that going 28 hours without sleep produced driving abilities
similar to someone with a blood-alcohol level of 0.1, which is above the

legal limit throughout North America (Williamson & Feyer, 2000). Given
that sleep deprivation is as dangerous as driving while mildly intoxicated
(Dawson & Reid, 1997; Maruff et al., 2005), it is not surprising that it is
one of the most prevalent causes of fatal traffic accidents (Lyznicki et al.,
1998; Sagberg, 1999).
Sleep deprivation has led to some serious errors in the medical field as
well. For instance, researchers at Harvard noted a number of critical
errors by medical interns who were tired, including draining the wrong
lung, prescribing a medication dose 10 times higher than it should have

been, and causing an accidental overdose of benzodiazepines (Landrigan
et al., 2004). Exhausted medical interns were also more likely to crash
their cars on the way home (Barger et al., 2005) and suffer from job stress
and burnout (Chen, Vorona, et al., 2008). These findings have motivated
some researchers to investigate potential benefits of alternative work

schedules. By limiting the length of shifts and reducing the number of
hours worked per week, the number of medical errors decreased by 36%
(Figure 5.6 ; Landrigan et al., 2004).
Figure 5.6 The Costly Effects of Sleep Deprivation

The traditional schedule of a medical intern (Group A) requires up to a
31-hour on-call shift, whereas the modified schedule (Group B) divides
the 31 hours into two shorter shifts. The latter schedule reduces the
effects of prolonged sleep deprivation as measured in terms of medical
errors.
Source: From Effect of Reducing Interns’ Work Hours on Serious Medical Errors in Intensive Care
Units by C. P. Landrigan et al. (2004), New England Journal of Medicine, 351(18), 1838–1848.
Copyright © 2004. Reprinted by permission of Massachusetts Medical Society.
Cognitive and coordination errors are not limited to situations involving

full or partial sleep deprivation. They can also occur when the timing of
our sleep is altered. This phenomenon, sleep displacement , occurs when
an individual is prevented from sleeping at the normal time although she may be
able to sleep earlier or later in the day than usual. For example, consider a
man from balmy Winnipeg who flies to London (U.K.) for a vacation. The
first night in London, he may try to go to bed at his usual 12 AM time.
However, his body’s rhythms will be operating six hours earlier—they are
still at 6 PM Winnipeg time. If he is like most travellers, this individual will

experience sleep displacement for three or four days until he can get his
internal rhythms to synchronize with the external day–night cycles. Jet
lag  is the discomfort a person feels when sleep cycles are out of
synchronization with light and darkness (Arendt, 2009). How much jet lag
people experience is related to how many time zones they cross and how
quickly they do so (e.g., driving versus flying). Also, it is typically easier
to adjust when travelling west. When travelling east, a person must try to
fall asleep earlier than usual, which is difficult to do. Most people find it
easier to stay up longer than usual, which is what westward travel

requires.
Although jet lag has limited implications for our lives (unless you happen
to be a pilot or a flight attendant who crosses oceans several times a

month), many people will at some point in their lives have jobs that
require shift work. In many hospitals, nurses and support staff rotate
across three different 8-hour shifts over the course of a month (e.g.,
midnight–8 AM, 8 AM–4 PM, 4 PM–midnight). Switching shifts requires a
transition similar to jet lag; your day is suddenly altered by several hours.
In order to better adapt to these changes, companies and hospitals are
increasingly scheduling the shift rotations so that workers are able to stay
up later (similar to travelling westward in the jet lag example). This
reduces the negative effects on a worker’s sleep patterns, which reduces
the symptoms of sleep deprivation, thus giving the employer a more alert
(and friendlier) employee.
It is important to note that sleep deprivation is not always caused by

external factors such as world travel or tough work schedules; in fact, it
can be caused by our own behaviours. One possible cause of sleep
deprivation is consuming caffeine before bedtime. A 49-day study of five

individuals found that consuming caffeine—in this case a double espresso
—prior to going to bed delayed their internal clock by 40 minutes (Burke
et al., 2015). This shift was twice as large as that caused by exposure to
bright lights. (These participants were obviously dedicated and patient
people.) A follow-up examination of the cellular mechanisms of this effect

found that caffeine influences the levels of cyclic AMP, a molecule
involved in the brain’s internal clock. The good news is that the effects of
caffeine on your circadian rhythms—and the cognitive impairments that
go with it—are entirely under your control. The next time you spend an
evening at Starbucks with your favourite psychology textbook, order a
decaf.
Theories of Dreaming
It is very difficult to think about sleeping without thinking about

dreaming. Dreams are mysterious and have captured our imaginations for
most of human history. A study of 1348 Canadian university students
found that some patterns emerge when we analyze the content of our
dreams. Using a statistical technique called factor analysis, researchers

found that students’ dreams can be reduced to 16 factors or subtypes.
Females tended to have a larger number of negative dreams related to
failures, loss of control, and frightening animals. Males, on the other
hand, had more positive dreams, including those related to magical
abilities and encounters with alien life (Nielsen et al., 2003). However,
studies such as this one, despite being conducted properly, do not

provide insight into the purpose(s) dreams serve in our lives.
The Psychoanalytic Approach
One of the earliest and most influential theories of dreams was developed
by Sigmund Freud in 1899. His classic work, The Interpretation of Dreams,
dramatically transformed the Western world’s view of both the function
and meaning of dreams. Although many ancient societies performed
dream interpretations, most viewed the content of dreams as representing

connections to specific gods, as omens (good or bad), or as predictors of
the future. In contrast, Freud viewed dreams as an unconscious
expression of wish fulfillment. He believed that humans are motivated by
primal urges, with sex and aggression being the most dominant. Because
giving in to these urges is impractical most of the time (not to mention

potentially immoral and illegal), we learn ways of keeping these urges
suppressed and outside of our conscious awareness. When we sleep,
however, we lose the power to suppress our urges. Without this active
suppression, these drives are free to create the vivid imagery found in our
dreams. This imagery can take two forms. Manifest content  involves
the images and storylines that we dream about. In many of our dreams, the
manifest content involves sexuality and aggression, consistent with the
view that dreams are a form of wish fulfillment. However, in other cases,
the manifest content of dreams might seem like random, bizarre images
and events. Freud would argue that these images are anything but
random; instead, he believed they have a hidden meaning. This latent
content  is the actual symbolic meaning of a dream built on suppressed sexual
or aggressive urges. Because the true meaning of the dream is latent, Freud
advocated dream work, the recording and interpreting of dreams. Through

such work, Freudian analysis would allow you to bring the previously
hidden sexual and aggressive elements of your dreams into the forefront,
although it might mean you’d never look at the CN Tower the same way
again.
It is difficult to overstate the influence that Freud’s ideas have had on our
culture’s beliefs about dreaming. There is an abundance of books offering
insights into interpreting dreams, including dictionaries that claim to
define certain symbols found in a dream’s latent content. However, it is
important to note that the scientific support for Freud’s work is quite
limited. Although his theories are based on extensive interviews with
patients, many of these theories are difficult to test in a scientific manner
because they cannot be falsified (i.e., there is no way to prove them
wrong). Moreover, dream work requires a subjective interpreter to
understand dreams rather than using objective measures. Therefore, the
analysis of your dream might have more to do with the mindset of the
analyst than it does your own hidden demons. Not surprisingly, modern
dream research focuses much more on the biological activity of dreaming.
These studies focus primarily on REM sleep, when dreams are most
common and complex.
The Activation–Synthesis Hypothesis
Freud saw deep psychological meaning in the latent content of dreams. In
contrast, the activation–synthesis hypothesis  suggests that dreams arise
from brain activity originating from bursts of excitatory messages from the pons,
a part of the brainstem (Hobson & McCarley, 1977). This electrical activity
produces the telltale signs of eye movements and patterns of EEG activity
during REM sleep that resemble wakefulness; moreover, the burst of
activity stimulates the occipital and temporal lobes of the brain—
producing imaginary sights and sounds—as well as numerous other
regions of the cortex (see Figure 5.7 ). Thus, the brainstem initiates the
activation component of the model. The synthesis component arises as

different areas of the cortex of the brain try to make sense of all the
images, sounds, emotions, and memories created by this activation
(Hobson et al., 2000). Imagine having a dozen people each provide you
with one randomly selected word, with your task being to organize these
words to look like a single message; this is essentially what your cortex is
doing every time you dream. Because we are often able to turn these
random messages into a coherent story, researchers assume that the
frontal lobes—the region of the brain associated with forming narratives—
play a key role in the synthesis process (Eiser, 2005).
Figure 5.7 The Activation–Synthesis Hypothesis of Dreaming

The pons, located in the brainstem, sends excitatory messages through
the thalamus to the sensory and emotional areas of the cortex. The
images and emotions that arise from this activity are then woven into a
story. Inhibitory signals are also relayed from the pons down the spinal
cord, which prevents movement during dreaming.
The activation–synthesis model, although important in its own right, has

some interesting implications. If the cortex is able to provide (temporary)
structure to input from the brainstem and other regions of the brain, then
that means the brain is able to work with and restructure information
while we dream. If that is the case, then is it possible that the neural
activity involved with dreaming also influences our ability to learn new
information?
Dreams, REM Sleep, and Learning
The activation–synthesis model of dreaming suggests that our
dreams result from random brainstem activity that is organized—

to some degree—by the cortex. Although this theory is widely
accepted, it doesn’t provide many specifics about the purpose of
dreams. Why do we have these processes occurring and what
functions do they serve? Dream researcher Rosalind Cartwright

(Cartwright et al., 2006; Webb & Cartwright, 1978) proposed the
problem-solving theory —the theory that thoughts and concerns
are continuous from waking to sleeping, and that dreams may function
to facilitate finding solutions to problems encountered while awake.
This theory suggests that many of the images and thoughts we

have during our dreams are relevant to the problems that we face
when we are awake. For instance, researchers have found that
individuals who are in poor physical health have more dreams
about pain, injuries, illnesses, and medical themes than do
healthy individuals (King & DeCicco, 2007). However, although
no one doubts that our daily concerns find their way into our
dreams, the problem-solving theory does not explain if (or how)
any specific cognitive mechanisms are influenced by dreaming.
Research into REM sleep performed by Canadian researchers

may provide some answers.
What do we know about dreams, REM sleep,
and learning?
Approximately 20%–25% of our total sleep time is taken up by
REM, or rapid eye movement, sleep. When we are deprived of
REM sleep, we typically experience a phenomenon called REM
rebound—our brains spend increased time in REM-phase sleep
when given the chance. The fact that our bodies actively try to
catch up on missed REM sleep suggests that it may serve an
important function.
As discussed earlier in this module, REM sleep produces
brainwaves similar to being awake, yet we are asleep (Aserinsky
& Kleitman, 1953). This similarity suggests that the types of
functions being performed by the brain are likely similar during
the two states. Studies with animals have shown that REM sleep
is associated with a number of different neurotransmitter

systems, all of which influence activity in the brainstem.
Projections from the brainstem can then affect a number of
different functions, including movement (which is inhibited),
emotional regulation (through connections to the amygdala and
frontal lobes), and learning (Brown et al., 2012). Clearly REM is

not simply about twitching eyes! The challenge for psychologists
is to determine the specific functions that are, and are not,
affected by REM.
How can science explain the effects of dreams

and REM sleep on learning?
In the past 30 years, scientists have performed an extraordinary
number of experiments in an attempt to understand how REM
sleep (and possibly dreaming) influences our thinking. The
results of these studies show that REM sleep affects some, but not
all, types of memory. If someone were to give you a list of words
to remember and then tested you later, this would be an example

of declarative memory (see Module 7.1 ). The effect of REM sleep
disruption on declarative memory was tested in a study
conducted by Carlyle Smith at Trent University. Different groups

of participants had only their REM sleep disrupted, only their
non-REM sleep disrupted, or all of their sleep disrupted. When

their memory for the words was tested, there were no differences
among the groups, suggesting that REM sleep is not critical for
this simple type of memory. However, when researchers gave
participants tests that involved a larger number of steps or
procedures, a different pattern of results emerged: Being deprived

of REM sleep produced large deficits in performance (Smith,
2001).
Several studies have shown that the amount of REM sleep people
experience increases the night after learning a new task (Smith et
al., 2004). In a study directly related to students’ lives, Smith and
Lapp (1991) measured REM sleep three to five days after senior
undergraduate students had completed their fall semester final
exams. These students had more REM sleep episodes and a

greater REM sleep density than they had when they were tested
in the summer, when less learning was taking place. They also
had higher sleep-density values than age-matched participants
who were not in university. These results suggest that REM sleep
may help us consolidate or maintain newly learned information.
Research has also demonstrated that REM sleep and dreaming

influence our ability to problem solve. Depriving people of REM
sleep reduces their ability to perform a complex logic task (Smith,

1993), which may be due to the fact that our ability to form new
associations increases during REM sleep (Stickgold et al., 1999;

Walker et al., 2002). Indeed, REM sleep, as opposed to non-REM
sleep, helps people think creatively to find associations between
words (Cai et al., 2009). REM sleep appears to be involved with

linking together steps in the formation of new memories and in
reorganizing information in novel ways.

We have to be cautious when we consider the effects that REM
sleep, and perhaps dreaming, have on memory and problem

solving. Although there is a great deal of evidence that REM sleep
does influence a number of abilities, most of this research is
correlational. As you’ve undoubtedly heard before, correlation

does not equal causation. Therefore, we can’t guarantee that REM
sleep is causing the improvements in memory—just that its
disruption is related to poor performance on a number of tasks. It
is also unclear whether the observed effects are due to dreaming
or to some other REM-related function.
In addition to these questions, it is also worth noting that the
effects from these studies are not occurring during every period
of REM sleep. When it comes to memory, not all REM sleep is
created equal. The final few REM periods in the early morning
appear to be critical for learning (Smith, 2001). Stickgold and
colleagues (2000) found that performance on a visual search task

(in which participants tried to find a particular target image that
was hidden among distracter images, similar to Where’s Waldo?)
correlated with the amount of non-REM sleep a person had in the
early part of the night and the amount of REM sleep in the early
morning. Therefore, to say that REM sleep, in general, improves
some types of learning is an over-simplification. Further research
is needed to understand what makes these early morning
windows of REM special.

Studies of REM sleep and learning show us that the benefits of
sleep go beyond restoring and repairing the body. Rather, the

effect(s) of REM sleep on our ability to learn new tasks should
serve as a wake-up call to all of us. Almost everyone in a
university setting—students and professors—is working on a less-

than-optimal amount of sleep despite the fact that REM sleep is
clearly an important part of our ability to learn. This seems
counterproductive. Studying and sleeping every night is a much
more effective way to retain information than pulling a frantic all-
nighter just before an exam, even if we all feel like we’re out of
time.
Disorders and Problems with Sleep
Throughout this module, we have seen that sleep is an essential

biological and psychological process; without sleep, individuals are
vulnerable to cognitive, emotional, and physical symptoms. Given these
widespread effects, it should come as no surprise that a lot of research has
been directed at improving our ability to diagnose and treat sleep

disorders. In the final section of this module, we will discuss some of the
more common sleep disorders.

Insomnia
The most widely recognized sleeping problem is insomnia , a disorder
characterized by an extreme lack of sleep. According to the 2011–2012
Canadian Community Health Survey from Statistics Canada, 17% of
Canadian adults (6.3 million people) suffer from insomnia (Chaput et al.,
2017). This represents a 1.5% increase from a 2002 Statistics Canada

survey, with most of this change being due to a large increase in insomnia
in middle-aged women (Garland et al., 2018). Although the average adult
may need seven to eight hours of sleep to feel rested, substantial
individual differences exist. For this reason, insomnia is defined not in
terms of the number of hours of sleep, but rather in terms of the degree to
which a person feels rested during the day. If a person feels that their
sleep disturbance is affecting their schoolwork, job, or family and social
life, then it is indeed a problem. However, for this condition to be
thought of as a sleep disorder, it would have to be present for three
months or more—one or two “bad nights” is unpleasant, but is not

technically insomnia.
Although insomnia is often thought of as a single disorder, it may be
more appropriate to refer to insomnias in the plural. Onset insomnia
occurs when a person has difficulty falling asleep (30 minutes or more),
maintenance insomnia occurs when an individual cannot easily return to
sleep after waking in the night, and terminal insomnia or early morning
insomnia is a situation in which a person wakes up too early—sometimes
hours too early—and cannot return to sleep (Pallesen et al., 2001).

Insomnia can arise from worrying about sleep. Insomnia is among the
most common of all sleep disorders.
Steve Prezant/Glow Images
It is important to remember that for a sleep disorder to be labelled
insomnia, the problems with sleeping must be due to some internal

cause; not sleeping because your roommate snores does not count as
insomnia. Sometimes insomnia occurs as part of another problem, such

as depression, pain, developmental disorders such as attention deficit
hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), or various drugs (Corkum et al., 2014;

Schierenbeck et al., 2008); in these cases, the sleep disorder is referred to
as a secondary insomnia. When insomnia is the only symptom that a

person is showing, and other causes can be ruled out, physicians would
label the sleep disorder as insomnia disorder. If you think back to our
earlier discussion of sleep deprivation, you can see why insomnia—

despite not seeming serious—can have a profound effect on a person’s
ability to function in our demanding world. However, it isn’t the only
disorder that can affect our ability to sleep a full eight hours each night.
Nightmares and Night Terrors
Although most of our dreams are interesting and often bizarre, some of
our dreams really scare us. Nightmares  are particularly vivid and
disturbing dreams that occur during REM sleep. They can be so emotionally
charged that they awaken the individual (Levin & Nielsen, 2007). Almost
everyone—as many as 85% to 95% of adults—can remember having bad

dreams that have negative emotional content, such as feeling lost, sad, or
angry, within a one-year period (Levin, 1994; Schredl, 2003). Data from
numerous studies indicate that nightmares are correlated with
psychological distress including anxiety (Nielsen et al., 2000; Zadra &
Donderi, 2000), negative emotionality (Berquier & Ashton, 1992; Levin &
Fireman, 2002), and emotional reactivity (Kramer et al., 1984). They are
more common in females (Nielsen et al., 2006), likely because women
tend to have higher levels of depression and anxiety disorders. Indeed, in
individuals with emotional disorders, the “synthesis” part of dreaming
appears to reorganize information in a way consistent with their mental

state, with a focus on negative emotion.
Nightmares, although unpleasant, are a normal part of life. In contrast,
1% to 6% of children and 1% of adults experience night terrors —intense
bouts of panic and arousal that awaken the individual, typically in a heightened
emotional state. A person experiencing a night terror may call out or
scream, fight back against imaginary attackers, or leap from the bed and
start to flee before waking up. Unlike nightmares, night terrors are not
dreams. These episodes occur during NREM sleep, and the majority of
people who experience them typically do not recall any specific dream
content. Night terrors increase in frequency during stressful periods, such
as when parents are separating or divorcing (Schredl, 2001). There is also
some evidence linking them to feelings of anxiety, which suggests that for
some sufferers, counselling and other means for reducing anxiety may
help reduce the symptoms (Kales et al., 1980; Szelenberger et al., 2005).
Movement Disturbances
To sleep well, an individual needs to remain still. During REM sleep, the
brain prevents movement by sending inhibitory signals down the spinal
cord. However, in some rare individuals, this inhibition does not occur.
REM behaviour disorder  is a condition that does not show the typical
restriction of movement during REM sleep; in fact, they appear to be acting out
the content of their dreams (Schenck & Mahowald, 2002). Imagine what
happens when an individual dreams of being attacked—the dreamed
response of defending oneself or even fighting back can be acted out. Not
surprisingly, this action can awaken some individuals. Because it occurs
during REM sleep, however, some individuals do not awaken until they
have hurt themselves or someone else (Schenck et al., 1989). Fortunately,
REM behaviour disorder can be treated with medication;
benzodiazepines, which inhibit the central nervous system, have proven
effective in reducing some of the symptoms associated with this condition
(Paparrigopoulos, 2005). However, given the potential side effects of this

class of drug, this option should only be taken if the person is a threat to
themself or others.
A more common movement disturbance is somnambulism , or
sleepwalking, a disorder that involves wandering and performing other
activities while asleep. It occurs during NREM sleep, stages 3 and 4, and is
more prevalent during childhood. Sleepwalking is not necessarily
indicative of any type of sleep or emotional disturbance, although it may
put people in harm’s way. People who sleepwalk are not acting out
dreams, and they typically do not remember the episode. (For the record,
it is not dangerous to wake up a sleepwalker, as is commonly thought. At
worst, they will be disoriented.) There is no reliable medicine that curbs
sleepwalking; instead, it is important to add safety measures to the
person’s environment so that the sleepwalker doesn’t get hurt.
A similar, but more adult, disorder is sexomnia or sleep sex. Individuals
with this condition engage in sexual activity such as the touching of the
self or others, vocalizations, and sex-themed talk while in stages 3 and 4
sleep (Shapiro et al., 2003). In the original case report of this disorder
(Motet, 1897, described in Thoinot, 1913), a man exposed his genitals to a
policeman. He was unable to recall the incident afterwards and was
sentenced to three months in jail. Other reports are more extreme,
including sex with strangers and unwanted contact with sleeping partners
(Béjot et al., 2010). Although this condition initially seems like a joke, it is
no laughing matter to people who experience sexomnia, the individuals
who experience unwanted sexual attention from someone with this
disorder, or the legal system. Of the ten individuals who used sexomnia
as a defence in a Canadian court, four were found guilty (Organ &

Fedoroff, 2015). At present, the exact cause of sexomnia is unknown,
although stress, fatigue, drug use, and a history of trauma have all been
mentioned as possible factors (Dubessy et al., 2017; Schenck et al., 2007).
Sleep Apnea
The disorders discussed thus far have focused on changes in the brain
that lead to altered thinking patterns (nightmares and night terrors) and
movements. In contrast, sleep apnea  is a disorder characterized by the
temporary inability to breathe during sleep (apnea literally translates to
“without breathing”). Although a variety of factors contribute to sleep

apnea, this condition appears to be most common among overweight and
obese individuals, and it is roughly twice as prevalent among men as
among women (Lin et al., 2008; McDaid et al., 2009). In most cases of
apnea, the airway becomes physically obstructed at a point anywhere
from the back of the nose and mouth to the neck (Figure 5.8 ).
Therefore, treatment for mild apnea generally involves dental devices that
hold the mouth in a specific position during sleep. Weight-loss efforts
should accompany this treatment in cases in which it is a contributing
factor. In moderate to severe cases, a continuous positive airway pressure
(CPAP) device can be used to force air through the nose, keeping the
airway open through increased air pressure (McDaid et al., 2009).
Figure 5.8 Sleep Apnea

One cause of sleep apnea is the obstruction of air flow, which can
seriously disrupt the sleep cycle.
Understanding, 2nd Ed. Reprinted and electronically reproduced of Pearson Education, Inc., New
York, NY.
In rare but more serious cases, sleep apnea can also be caused by the
brain’s failure to regulate breathing. This failure can happen for many
reasons, including damage to or deterioration of the medulla of the
brainstem, which is responsible for controlling the chest muscles during

breathing.
You might wonder if disorders that stop breathing during sleep can be
fatal. They can be, but rarely are. As breathing slows too much or stops
altogether, oxygen levels in the blood rapidly decline, resulting in a

gasping reflex and resumed oxygen flow. Actually, gasping may not even
result in waking up. A person with sleep apnea may not be aware that he
is constantly cycling through oxygen loss and gasping as he sleeps,
although it would certainly be noticed by anyone sharing a bed with him.

It is often the case that affected individuals discover that they have sleep
apnea only after visiting their physician to find a solution for their snoring
and fatigue.
Although sleep apnea is serious in its own right, it also leads to a number
of other problems. Repeatedly waking up during the night reduces the

quality of an individual’s sleep and can lead to a mild form of sleep
deprivation (Naëgelé et al., 1995). In fact, individuals who suffer from

sleep apnea often perform more poorly on tests requiring mental
flexibility, the control of attention, and memory (Fulda & Schulz, 2003).
Treating sleep apnea will therefore not only improve a person’s physical
safety and fatigue levels, but also the person’s ability to think.
Narcolepsy
While movement disorders, sleep apnea, and night terrors can all lead to
insomnia, another condition is characterized by nearly the opposite
effect. Narcolepsy  is a disorder in which a person experiences extreme
daytime sleepiness and even sleep attacks. These bouts of sleep may last only
a few seconds, especially if the person is standing or driving when she

falls asleep and is jarred awake by falling, a nodding head, or swerving of
the car. Even without such disturbances, the sleep may last only a few
minutes or more, so it is not the same as falling asleep for a night’s rest.
Narcolepsy differs from more typical sleep in a number of other ways.

People with a normal sleep pattern generally reach the REM stage after
more than an hour of sleep, but a person experiencing narcolepsy is likely
to go almost immediately from waking to REM sleep. Also, because REM
sleep is associated with dreaming, people with narcolepsy often report
vivid dream-like images even if they did not fully fall asleep.
Why does narcolepsy occur? Scientists have investigated a hormone
called orexin that functions to maintain wakefulness. Individuals with
narcolepsy have fewer brain cells that produce orexin, resulting in greater
difficulty maintaining wakefulness (Nakamura et al., 2011). Some
individuals also experience attacks of narcolepsy when they experience
intense emotions, such as when they laugh. Researchers suggest that in
these individuals, the hypothalamus—which controls the release of orexin
—does not exert control over brain areas related to emotion in the same
way that it does in most people’s brains. An fMRI study found that these
emotional brain areas, which included the amygdala, ventromedial
(bottom, middle) prefrontal cortex, and nucleus accumbens (a reward
centre), all showed increased activity during emotion-induced narcolepsy
(Meletti et al., 2015). Luckily, medications are available to treat this
condition, thus allowing these individuals to function relatively normally
(Mayer, 2012).
Watch Sleep Disorders

Overcoming Sleep Problems
Everyone has difficulty sleeping at some point, and there are many myths
and anecdotes about what will help. For some people, relief can be as
simple as a snack or a warm glass of milk; it can certainly be difficult to
sleep if you are hungry. Others might have a nightcap—a drink of alcohol
—in hopes of inducing sleep, although the effects can be misleading.

Alcohol may make you sleepy, but it disrupts the quality of sleep,
especially the REM cycle, and may leave you feeling unrested the next
day.
Another drug that is frequently used to assist with sleep is marijuana.

Many people who smoke marijuana use this drug to induce sleepiness. In
fact, several studies have shown that people with sleep problems are at a
greater risk of abusing marijuana than people who get enough sleep each
night (e.g., Mike et al., 2016; Wong et al., 2015). It is also worth noting
that using marijuana interferes with circadian rhythms (Lafaye et al.,

2018) and disrupts REM sleep (Feinberg et al., 1976). Given these
negative side effects and the fact that using marijuana as a sleep aid can
be habit forming, most researchers recommend that people with sleeping
problems find a less smoky solution (Furer et al., 2018).
Many people turn to over-the-counter drugs (e.g., sedatives) to help them
sleep. A number of sleep aids are available on an over-the-counter basis,
and several varieties of prescription drugs have been developed as well.
For most of the 20th century, drugs prescribed for insomnia included
sedatives such as barbiturates (Phenobarbital) and benzodiazepines (e.g.,
Valium). Although these drugs managed to put people to sleep, several
problems with their use were quickly observed. Notably, people quickly
developed tolerance to these agents, meaning they required increasingly
higher doses to get the same effect, and many soon came to depend on
the drugs so much that they could not sleep without them (Pallesen et al.,
2001). Modern sleep drugs are generally thought to be much safer in the
short term, and many have been approved for long-term use as well.
However, few modern drugs have been studied in placebo-controlled
experiments, and even fewer have actually been studied for long-term use
(e.g., for more than a month; Krystal, 2009).
Fortunately, most people respond very well to psychological
interventions. By practising good sleep hygiene—healthy sleep-related
habits—they can typically overcome sleep disturbances in a matter of a
few weeks (Morin et al., 2006; Murtagh & Greenwood, 1995). The
techniques shown in Table 5.1  are effective for many people who prefer
self-help methods, but effective help is also available from psychologists,
physicians, and even (sometimes) on the internet (Ritterband et al., 2009;

van Straten & Cuijpers, 2009). So, rather than taking drugs to alter your
brain chemistry, it is generally safer to change your sleep hygiene

(sleeping routines) if you want to put your sleeping problems to rest.
Table 5.1 Nonpharmacological Techniques for Improving Sleep

Source: Based on recommendations from the American Psychological Association, 2004.
Module 5.1 Summary
5.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with sleep,

dreams, and sleep disorders.
Review Module 5.1
5.1b Understand . . . how the sleep cycle works.
The sleep cycle consists of a series of stages going from stage 1 through
stage 4, cycles back down again, and is followed by a REM phase. The
first sleep cycle lasts approximately 90 minutes. Deep sleep (stages 3 and
4) is longest during the first half of the sleep cycle, whereas REM phases
increase in duration during the second half of the sleep cycle.
5.1c Understand . . . theories of why we sleep.
Sleep theories include the restore and repair hypothesis and the preserve
and protect hypothesis. According to the restore and repair hypothesis,
we sleep so that the body can recover from the stress and strain on the
body that occurs during waking. Waste products are more efficiently
removed from the brain during this time as well. According to the
preserve and protect hypothesis, sleep has evolved as a way to reduce
activity and provide protection from potential threats, and to reduce the
amount of energy intake required. Evidence supports both theories, so it
is likely that there is more than one reason for sleep.
5.1d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify and practise good

sleep habits.
Apply Activity
Try completing the Epworth Sleepiness Scale to make sure you are getting
enough sleep (Table 5.2 ). If you score 10 points or higher, you are
probably not getting enough sleep. You can always refer to Table 5.1  for
tips on improving your sleep.
Table 5.2 Epworth Sleepiness Scale

Use the following scale to choose the most appropriate number for each
situation:
0 = would never doze or sleep 1 = slight chance of dozing or sleeping 2 =
moderate chance of dozing or sleeping 3 = high chance of dozing or
sleeping
Source: Reprinted with permission from SLEEP. Sleep Research Society, Darien, IL, USA 2016.
5.1e Analyze . . . different theories about why we dream.
Dreams have fascinated psychologists since Freud’s time. From his
psychoanalytic perspective, Freud believed that the manifest content of

dreams could be used to uncover their symbolic, latent content.
Contemporary scientists are skeptical about the validity of this approach
given the lack of empirical evidence to support it. The activation–

synthesis theory eliminates the meaning of dream content, suggesting
instead that dreams are just interpretations of haphazard electrical

activity in the sleeping brain that are then organized to some degree by
the cortex. Increasing evidence suggests that REM sleep, the sleep stage
associated with dreaming, improves our ability to form new procedural
(step-by-step) memories and to find solutions to problems.
Module 5.2 Altered States of
Consciousness: Hypnosis, Mind-
Wandering, and Disorders of
Consciousness

Gennadiy Poznyakov/Fotolia
5.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with hypnosis, mind-

wandering, and disorders of consciousness.
5.2b Understand . . . the competing theories of hypnosis.
5.2c Apply . . . your knowledge of hypnosis to identify what it can and

cannot do.
5.2d Analyze . . . the effectiveness of using neuroimaging to study
mind-wandering.
5.2e Analyze . . . the ability of researchers to detect consciousness in

brain-damaged patients.
“Just a moment! I don’t like the patient’s colour. Much too blue. Her lips
are very blue. I’m going to give a little more oxygen. . . . There, that’s
better now. You can carry on with the operation” (Levinson, 1965, p.
544). If you were undergoing surgery with a local anesthetic and heard
this, you would certainly be worried . . . if not panicking. But what if
you had been given general anesthetic so that you were “unconscious”?
Presumably, you should be blissfully unaware of the fact that you were
turning blue. However, when prompted by an experimenter one month

later, eight of the 10 patients who heard these statements—which were
in a script read during real surgeries as part of an experiment—were

able to report back some elements of the fake crisis. Four of the patients
were able to give an almost verbatim account of what the experimenter

said. In other studies, post-operative patients were able to complete
word stems (e.g., H O - - -) with words presented under anesthesia
(e.g., HORSE, not HOUSE) at levels far above chance (Bonebakker et

al., 1996; Merikle & Daneman, 1996). How is this possible? Brain
imaging studies have noted that anesthesia affects more than just
activity related to pain and touch; instead, it affects how different areas
of the brain work together to form networks (MacDonald et al., 2015).

Importantly, anesthesia seems to affect brain networks related to
complex thought more than it affects networks related to auditory and

visual perception (Boveroux et al., 2010; Liu et al., 2012). This
difference may explain why anesthetized patients might, upon coming

out of the anesthetic state, use the presented words to complete word
stems even though they have no conscious recollection of their
presentation.
It is important to note that these studies don’t tell us what
consciousness is. What these studies do illustrate, however, is that
consciousness does not have a simple on/off switch. Instead, there are a
number of possible states of consciousness, each with its own abilities
and limitations.
Philosophers have attempted to understand the mysteries of

consciousness for thousands of years. Recently, cognitive neuroscience
researchers have used methods ranging from brain imaging to computer

modelling to examine how the coordinated activity of groups of brain
cells can produce our everyday conscious experiences (Crick, 1994; Koch
et al., 2016). Although these investigations have shown great promise,
many psychologists use a different strategy to study consciousness:

examining situations in which consciousness is altered or impaired. By
examining how our abilities and experiences change during altered states
of consciousness, we can gain greater insight into our “normal” conscious
behaviour. In this module, we will discuss three of these altered states—

hypnosis, mind-wandering, and disorders of consciousness caused by
brain damage.
Hypnosis
The caricature of a hypnotist as an intense-looking bearded man swinging

his glistening pocket watch back and forth before an increasingly
subdued subject will probably always be around, though it promotes just
one of many misunderstandings about hypnosis. Hypnosis  is actually a
procedure of inducing a heightened state of suggestibility. According to this

definition, hypnosis is not a trance, as is often portrayed in the popular
media (Kirsch & Lynn, 1998). Instead, the hypnotist simply suggests
changes, and the subject is more likely (but not certain) to comply as a
result of the suggestion.
Although one could conceivably make suggestions about almost

anything, hypnotic suggestions generally are most effective when they fall
into one of three categories:
Ideomotor suggestions are related to specific actions that could be
performed, such as adopting a specific position.
Challenge suggestions indicate actions that are not to be performed, so
that the subject appears to lose the ability to perform an action.
Cognitive-perceptual suggestions involve a subject remembering or

forgetting specific information, or experiencing altered perceptions
such as reduced pain sensations (Kirsch & Lynn, 1998).
People who have not encountered scientific information about hypnosis
are often skeptical that hypnosis can actually occur or are very reluctant
to be hypnotized themselves (Capafons et al., 2008; Molina & Mendoza,
2006). It is important to note that hypnotists cannot make someone do
something against their will. For example, the hypnotist could not suggest
that an honest person rob a bank and expect the subject to comply.
Instead, the hypnotist can increase the likelihood that subjects will
perform simple behaviours that they have performed or have thought of
before, and would be willing to do (in some contexts) when in a normal
conscious state.
Check Your Understanding: The Three Types of Hypnotic

Suggestions
Theories of Hypnosis
In the previous section, we discussed the types of behaviours that can and
cannot be influenced by hypnosis; in this section, we attempt to uncover
how this process actually works. The word hypnosis comes from the
Greek word hypno, meaning “sleep.” In reality, scientific research tells us
that hypnosis is nothing like sleep. Instead, hypnosis is based on an

interaction between (1) automatic (unconscious) thoughts and
behaviours and (2) a supervisory system (Norman & Shallice, 1986),
sometimes referred to as executive processing, that is involved in processes
such as the control of attention and problem solving. The roles played by
these two pieces of the puzzle differ across theories of hypnosis.

Stage hypnotists often use the human plank demonstration with their
subjects. They support an audience volunteer on three chairs. To the
audience’s amazement, when the chair supporting the mid-body is
removed, the hypnotized subject does not fall (even when weight is
added, as shown in the photo). However, non-hypnotized subjects also
do not fall. (Please do not try this at home—there is a trick behind it!)
Bookstaver/AP Images
Dissociation theory  explains hypnosis as a unique state in which

consciousness is divided into two parts: a lower-level system involved with
perception and movement and an “executive” system that evaluates and

monitors these behaviours (Hilgard, 1986; Woody & Farvolden, 1998). It
may sound magical, but this kind of divided state is actually quite
common. Take any skill that you have mastered, such as driving a car or
playing an instrument. When you began, it took every bit of your

conscious awareness to focus on the correct movements—you were a
highly focused observer of your actions. In this case, your behaviour

required a lot of executive processing. After a few years of practice, you
can do it automatically while you observe and pay attention to something
else. In this case, you require much less executive processing. Although
we call the familiar behaviour automatic, part of you is still paying

attention to what you are doing in case you suddenly need to change
your behaviour. During hypnosis, there appears to be a separation

between these two systems. As a result, actions or thoughts suggested by
the hypnotist may bypass the evaluation and monitoring system and go
directly to the simpler perception and movement systems (Landry & Raz,
2015). In other words, suggestible individuals will experience less input
from the executive system (Jamieson & Sheehan, 2004; Woody & Bowers,
1994). In support of this view, neuroimaging studies have found reduced
activity in the anterior cingulate cortex, a region of the frontal lobe

related to executive functions, in hypnotized subjects (McGeown et al.,
2009; Raz et al., 2005).
A second approach, social-cognitive theory , explains hypnosis by

emphasizing the degree to which beliefs and expectations contribute to increased
suggestibility. This perspective is supported by experiments in which

individuals who are not yet hypnotized are told either that they will be
able to resist ideomotor suggestions or that they will not be able to resist
them. In these studies, people tend to conform to what they have been
told to expect—a result that cannot be easily explained by dissociation
theory (Lynn et al., 1984; Spanos et al., 1985). Similarly, research on

hypnosis as a treatment for pain shows that response expectancy—whether
the individual believes the treatment will work—plays a large role in the
actual pain relief experienced (Milling, 2009).
At this point, there appears to be some evidence in favour of both
theories. It is possible that expectations might make some people more

likely to enter a hypnotic state, but once they enter it, they act in a way
consistent with the dissociation theory. These expectations may be why
people are more likely to enter a hypnotic state under the guidance of a
hypnotist than with a non-hypnotist. However, the exact relationship (if
any) between these two theories remains unclear. This lack of clarity is
due to the fact that hypnosis did not receive much scientific attention for
most of the 20th century. However, despite the fact that there is not a
clear answer as to how hypnosis works, most scientists agree that for
some individuals hypnosis can be a powerful therapeutic tool.

Applications of Hypnosis
Although it is used far less frequently than medications or talk-based
therapies, hypnosis has been used to treat a number of physical and
psychological conditions. Hypnosis is often used in conjunction with
other psychotherapies such as cognitive-behavioural therapy (CBT; see
Module 16.2 ) rather than as a stand-alone treatment. The resulting

cognitive hypnotherapy has been used as an effective treatment for
depression (Alladin & Alibhai, 2007), anxiety (Abramowitz et al., 2008;
Schoenberger et al., 1997), eating disorders (Barabasz, 2007), hot flashes
of cancer survivors (Elkins et al., 2008), and irritable bowel syndrome
(Golden, 2007), among many others (M. R. Nash et al., 2009). Hypnosis is
far from a cure-all, however. For example, researchers found that
hypnotherapy combined with a nicotine patch is more effective as a
smoking cessation intervention than the patch alone. Nonetheless, only
one-fifth of the individuals receiving this kind of therapy managed to
remain smoke-free for a year (Carmody et al., 2008). Moreover, although

some therapists combine hypnotherapy with traditional cognitive
behavioural therapy when treating depression, much more research is
required before this technique becomes a standard treatment (Alladin,
2012). The best conclusion regarding hypnosis in therapy is that it shows
promise, especially when used in conjunction with other evidence-based
psychological or medical treatments.
Perhaps the most practical use for hypnosis is in the treatment of pain. If
researchers can demonstrate its effectiveness in this application, it may be

a preferred method of pain control given painkillers’ potential side effects
and the risk of addiction. What does the scientific evidence say about the
use of hypnosis in treating pain? Reviews of studies examining hypnosis
and pain suggest that between 60 and 75% of individuals experienced
pain relief from hypnosis (Kendrick et al., 2017; Montgomery et al., 2000).
What happened to the other 25% to 40%? Perhaps the failure of the
treatment in this group is attributable to the fact that some people are
more readily hypnotized than others. Indeed, brain imaging studies
suggest that the strength of connections to and from the anterior
cingulate gyrus differs between hypnotizable and non-hypnotizable

individuals (Cojan et al., 2015); this brain region is involved in both
hypnosis and the perception of pain (see Module 4.4 ). In addition, to
truly understand pain control, researchers must distinguish among
different types of pain. Research has shown that hypnosis generally works
as well as drug treatments for acute pain, which is the intense, temporary
pain associated with a medical or dental procedure (Patterson & Jenson,
2003). The effect of hypnosis on chronic pain is more complicated, as
some conditions are due to purely physical causes whereas others are
more psychological in nature. For these latter conditions, it is likely that

the patient will expect to continue to feel pain regardless of the treatment,
thus reducing the effectiveness of hypnosis.

Under hypnosis, people can withstand higher levels of pain for longer
periods of time, including the discomfort associated with dental
procedures.
Bikeriderlondon/Shutterstock
Myths in Mind
Recovering Lost Memories through Hypnosis
Before the limitations of hypnosis were fully understood,
professionals working in the fields of psychology and law

regularly used this technique for uncovering lost memories.
What a powerful tool this would be for a psychologist—if a
patient could remember specifics about trauma or abuse it

could greatly help the individual’s recovery. Similarly, law
enforcement and legal professionals could benefit by learning

the details of a crime recovered through hypnosis—or so many
assumed.
However, as you have read, hypnosis puts the subject into a
highly suggestible state. This condition leaves the individual

vulnerable to prompts and suggestions by the hypnotist. A
cooperative person could certainly comply with suggestions

and create a story that, in the end, was entirely false. This has
happened time and again. In reality, hypnosis does not improve
memory (Kihlstrom, 1997; Loftus & Davis, 2006). Today,

responsible psychologists do not use hypnotherapy to uncover
or reconstruct lost memories. Police officers have also largely
given up this practice. In 2007, the Supreme Court of Canada
ruled that testimony based on hypnosis sessions alone cannot
be submitted as evidence (Supreme Court of Canada, 2007).

Mind-Wandering
During hypnosis, an individual enters an altered state of consciousness in

which he or she is more suggestible than at other times. Although the
idea of altered states of consciousness might seem strange to you at first,
you actually experience them all the time, possibly even while reading
this book. One such example is mind-wandering, an obstacle to your (and

everyone else’s) ability to work and study.
What Is Mind-Wandering?
Imagine sitting in a large lecture hall listening to an enthusiastic professor
talk about European history. Despite the fascinating topic filled with
battles and revolutions, after a few minutes, you start to think about a
conversation you had with a friend the day before. Then you start to think
about the witty remarks you wish you had made, and fantasize about
unleashing these comments on people in an argument sometime in the
future. Then, suddenly, you are back in your classroom, and see an
unfamiliar slide on the screen at the front of the room. Your body was
physically present in the classroom for the entire lecture, but your mind
was elsewhere. This is an example of mind-wandering , an unintentional

redirection of attention from the current task to an unrelated train of thought
(Mooneyham & Schooler, 2013).
The frequency with which we think about something unrelated to what
we are doing is astonishing. This was powerfully demonstrated in an

innovative study in which researchers programmed an iPhone app that
contacted participants at random times during the day (Killingsworth &
Gilbert, 2010). Participants were asked, “Are you thinking about
something other than what you’re currently doing?” The results indicated
that mind-wandering occurred in 47% of the samples taken. The
frequency of mind-wandering was over 30% for every activity other than
sex! The challenge for psychologists is to determine whether—or how
much—these lapses of attention affect our ability to work and study.

At first glance, studying the effects of mind-wandering might seem
impossible—how you do study the process of not paying attention?
However, in the past decade, psychologists have conducted a number of
studies examining how mind-wandering affects attention and memory
(e.g., Kam & Handy, 2014). For instance, several studies have shown that
mind-wandering decreases reading comprehension. In one such study
conducted at the University of Alberta, participants read either an
engaging passage (an excerpt from Anne Rice’s Interview with the
Vampire) or a less interesting passage (an excerpt from William M.
Thackeray’s The History of Pendennis). While reading the assigned

passages, participants were occasionally asked whether they were
attending to the text. Not surprisingly, the researchers found that for both
types of passages, the recall of the material was better when participants
were paying attention to the text rather than mind-wandering (Dixon &
Bortolussi, 2013). However, the errors caused by mind-wandering went
beyond missing minor details. Participants in this and other experiments
often missed major elements of the plot. One study found that mind-
wandering participants couldn’t identify the villain in a mystery story
(Smallwood et al., 2008)! Given these results, it should come as no

surprise that mind-wandering is associated with poorer retention of
university lecture material (Risko et al., 2012) and with poorer scores on
intelligence tests (Mrazek et al., 2012).
Of course, if we spend at least 30% of our time not consciously attending
to our current situation, it does make you wonder where your mind
wandered off to. Recent brain imaging studies suggest an interesting
destination.
Mind-Wandering and the Brain
In the late 1990s, Marcus Raichle and his research team made a discovery
that would change psychology. While looking at their brain imaging data,
Raichle noticed that a number of brain areas were active. For most
scientists, finding brain activity that is consistent with your predictions is
a cause for celebration, if not a trip to the campus pub. But Raichle
noticed something else in his data. He noticed that across a number of
studies, the same pattern of deactivations also occurred (Raichle et al.,
2001). In other words, a network of brain regions became less active when
participants performed a task (see Figure 5.9 ). This network, now
known as the default mode network , is a network of brain regions

including the medial prefrontal cortex, posterior cingulate gyrus, and medial
and lateral regions of the parietal lobe that is most active when an individual is
awake but not responding to external stimuli. In other words, the default
mode network is more active when a person is paying attention to his
internal thoughts rather than to an outside stimulus or task (Raichle,

2015).
Figure 5.9 The Default Mode Network and Frontoparietal Network

The default mode network (left) is involved with self-related thinking.
The frontoparietal network is linked with goal-directed thought and
planning. Both are involved with mind-wandering.
Source: Reproduced with permission of Annual Review of Neuroscience, Volume 38 © by Annual

Reviews, www.annualreviews.org.
The default mode network also appears to be related to mind-wandering;
this makes sense given that mind-wandering is often associated with

becoming lost in one’s own thoughts (Gruberger et al., 2011). In one
fMRI study conducted at the University of British Columbia, researchers

measured participants’ brain activity while they performed a simple (and
boring) perceptual task. At different points in the experiment, participants

were asked (1) “Where was your attention focused just before the probe
[the question]?” and (2) “How aware were you of where your attention
was focused?” Activity in the default mode network was more
pronounced when participants were not paying attention to the

perceptual task. This effect was largest when they weren’t aware that they
were mind-wandering (Christoff et al., 2009). Importantly, the default
mode network wasn’t the only group of brain areas found to be active
during mind-wandering. A network involving parts of the frontal and
parietal lobes also showed increased activity when mind-wandering was

occurring (Fox et al., 2015). This frontoparietal network is associated with
goal-directed thinking such as planning for the future, as well as the

control of attention (i.e., “executive functioning”). This pattern of activity
is important—the fact that a brain network involved in higher-order

thought shows stronger connectivity during mind-wandering suggests
that these lapses of attention might actually serve a useful purpose.
The Benefits of Mind-Wandering
Our minds don’t always wander. If you’re being chased by a bear, it’s
unlikely that you’ll start daydreaming about your cute classmate. Instead,
mind-wandering typically occurs during tasks that are repetitive, don’t
require much thought, and/or that we’ve experienced before. If we’re not
dedicating many mental resources to a given task, we will have more

resources to dedicate to mind-wandering (Risko et al., 2012).
It is at this point that the increased activity in the frontal and parietal
brain areas becomes important. One function of the frontal lobes is
planning future goals and actions. As it turns out, mind-wandering is

related to future thinking (Smallwood et al., 2011). In one study,
participants completed a simple reaction-time task; at various points in
the experiment, they were interrupted and asked what they were thinking
about. The experimenters then judged whether the participants’ thoughts
were focused on the past, the present, or the future. When participants
were thinking about the experimental task, their thoughts were (not
surprisingly) rated as being focused on the present most of the time (see
Figure 5.10 ). In contrast, when people were mind-wandering, there was
a strong tendency to be thinking about the future. This future focus may
allow us to think about possible plans of action before we are actually in
that situation, an ability that could be quite useful (Baird et al., 2011).
Figure 5.10 Mind-Wandering about the Future

When participants are paying attention to the task (“On”), their thoughts
were judged to be focused on the present situation. When they were
mind-wandering (“Off,” for “off-task”), they were more likely to be
thinking about the future.
Source: Republished with permission of Elsevier Science, Inc., from Back to the future:
Autobiographical planning and the functionality of mind-wandering. Consciousness and Cognition
20, 1604-1611, 2011, Benjamin Baird; Jonathan Smallwood; Jonathan W. Schooler. Permission
It is important to note that although some studies have shown benefits to
mind-wandering, this area of research is still in its initial stages. All

researchers would agree that your performance on most tasks would be
improved if they received your full conscious attention. Unfortunately, as

you will read in the next section, this is not always possible.
Disorders of Consciousness
In 1990, a Florida woman named Terri Schiavo collapsed to the ground.

She had suffered a full cardiac arrest, resulting in massive brain damage
due to a lack of oxygen. She would never regain consciousness. After she
had been in a coma for almost three months, her diagnosis was changed
to a persistent vegetative state. In 1998, her husband asked the hospital to

remove her feeding tube because he was sure she wouldn’t want to live
this way. Her parents fought the decision, claiming part of Terri was still
conscious. The ethical and legal battles continued for seven years, and
included President George W. Bush cutting his vacation short in order to
return to Washington to sign a legal order keeping her alive (Cranford,
2005). Eventually, after the U.S. Supreme Court refused to hear an appeal,
her feeding tube was removed for the last time. Terri Schiavo died on
March 31, 2005.
The Terri Schiavo case highlights the importance of consciousness in
medical decision making. Consciousness can take many forms, all of
which vary in terms of how aware a person is of their environment. In
patients with brain damage, the degree to which a patient is conscious of
their surroundings can influence the diagnosis that they receive (Lee et
al., 2015). Neurologists distinguish six types of consciousness, ranging
from little-to-no brain function up to normal levels of awareness (see
Figure 5.11 ).
Figure 5.11 Disorders of Consciousness

Although more nuanced diagnoses exist, this diagram depicts six key
levels of consciousness used in the diagnosis of brain-damaged
individuals.
Source: Gawryluk, J. R., D’Arcy, R. C. N., Connolly, J. F., & Weaver, D. F. (2010). Improving the
clinical assessment of consciousness with advances in electrophysiological and neuroimaging
techniques. BMC Neurology, 10, 11. Fig. 1, p. 3.
The lowest level of consciousness in a person who is still technically alive
is known as brain death , a condition in which the brain, specifically

including the brainstem, no longer functions (American Academy of
Neurology, 1995). Individuals who are brain dead have no hope of
recovery because the brainstem regions responsible for basic life

functions like breathing and maintaining the heartbeat do not function
(see Figure 5.12 ).
Figure 5.12
Neuroimaging of Brain Death
This positron emission tomography (PET) scan shows the amount of

glucose being used by the brain. In a healthy brain, most of the image
would be yellow, green, or red, indicating activity. Here, only the tissue
surrounding the brain is using glucose, giving the image the appearance
of being an empty skull; functionally speaking, it is one.
Source: Laureys, S., Owen, A. M., & Schiff, N. D. (2004). Brain function in brain death, coma,
vegetative state, and related disorders. Lancet Neurology, 3, 537–546. Fig. 3, p. 539.
In contrast to brain death, a coma  is a state marked by a complete loss of
consciousness. It is generally due to damage to the brainstem or to

widespread damage to both hemispheres of the brain (Bateman, 2001).
Patients who are in a coma have an absence of both wakefulness and
awareness of themselves or their surroundings (Gawryluk et al., 2010).

Some of the patient’s brainstem reflexes will be suppressed, including
pupil dilation and constriction in response to changes in brightness.

Typically, patients who survive this stage begin to recover to higher levels
of consciousness within 2–4 weeks, although there is no guarantee that

the patient will make a full recovery.
If a patient in a coma improves slightly, the individual may enter a
persistent vegetative state , a state of minimal to no consciousness in which

the patient’s eyes may be open, and the individual will develop sleep–wake
cycles without clear signs of consciousness. For example, vegetative state
patients do not appear to focus on objects in their visual field, nor do they
track movement. These patients generally do not have damage to the
brainstem. Instead, they have extensive brain damage to the grey matter
and white matter of both hemispheres, leading to impairments of most

functions (Laureys et al., 2004; Owen & Coleman, 2008). The likelihood
of recovery from a vegetative state is time dependent. If a patient emerges
from this state within the first few months, they could regain some form
of consciousness. In contrast, if symptoms do not improve after three

months, the patient is classified as being in a permanent vegetative state;
the chances of recovery from that diagnosis decrease sharply (Wijdicks,
2006). Although recent nerve-stimulation studies show promise in
helping these patients improve slightly (Corazzol et al., 2017), it is still
unlikely that most patients in permanent vegetative states will regain

consciousness.
Thus far, we have discussed disorders of consciousness as though there
were a quick-and-easy tool for diagnoses. While this is definitely true for
brain death, distinguishing between other conditions is much more
difficult. In fact, misdiagnosis of these disorders is estimated to be as high
as 43% (Gawryluk et al., 2010; Schnakers et al., 2009). The challenge,
therefore, is to develop or adapt tools that will help neurologists more
accurately diagnose these mysterious conditions.
There are two other disorders of consciousness that are often diagnosed
by neurologists. One is the minimally conscious state (MCS) , a
disordered state of consciousness marked by the ability to show some behaviours

that suggest at least partial consciousness, even if on an inconsistent basis. A
minimally conscious patient must show some awareness of themself or
their environment, and be able to reproduce this behaviour. Examples of
some behaviours that are tested are following simple commands, making
gestures or yes/no responses to questions, and producing movements or
emotional reactions in response to some person or object in their
environment. When neuroimaging is used, minimally conscious patients

show more activity than vegetative patients, including activity in some
higher-order sensory and cognitive regions (Boly et al., 2004).
The disorder of consciousness that most resembles the healthy, awake
state—at least in terms of awareness—is locked-in syndrome , a disorder

in which the patient is aware and awake but, because of an inability to move his
or her body, appears unconscious (Smith & Delargy, 2005). Locked-in
syndrome was brought to the attention of most people by the movie The
Diving Bell and the Butterfly, which depicted Jean-Dominique Bauby’s

attempts to communicate to the outside world using eye movements. This
disorder is caused by damage to part of the pons, the region of the
brainstem that sticks out like an Adam’s apple. Most patients with locked-
in syndrome remain paralyzed. Luckily, new technology is making it
easier for these patients to communicate with the outside world.
The final stage of consciousness is the healthy, conscious brain. That’s

you. Be grateful.
Types of Disorders of Consciousness Review

Assessing Consciousness in the Vegetative

State
Determining a brain-damaged patient’s level of consciousness is
quite challenging. It also has important implications for the
patient’s treatment. If they are shown to have some degree of

awareness of the situation and/or their environment, then it
seems reasonable to get the patient’s opinion on matters affecting
treatment. In contrast, if they are unresponsive, then such
decisions should be made entirely by the family and the medical

team. Everyone wants what is best for the patient, but the tools
used to assess consciousness are still a work in progress.
What do we know about the assessment of

consciousness in vegetative patients?
The initial assessment of consciousness in severely brain-
damaged patients is generally performed at the patient’s bedside.
Doctors will perform tests of a patient’s reflexes (e.g., pupil
responses, which involve the brainstem) and examine other
simple responses. The most common assessment tool is the
Glasgow Coma Scale (GCS), a 15-item checklist for the physician.
The GCS measures eye movements—whether they can open at

all, open in response to pain, open in response to speech, or open
spontaneously without any reason. The next five items on this
checklist assess language abilities (e.g., do they use incorrect
words?). The final six items measure movement abilities such as
whether the patient responds to pain and whether they can obey
commands. Scores of 9 or below reflect a severe disturbance of
consciousness. (For comparison, individuals suffering from a

concussion tend to score between 13 and 15, which is labelled as
a mild disturbance.)
Checklists such as the GCS provide a useful initial indicator of a
brain-damaged patient’s abilities. However, many of the

behaviours measured by this and similar assessment tools focus
more on overt behaviours (i.e., movements) than on indirect
indications of awareness. A patient’s inability to move may imply
a greater disturbance of consciousness than actually exists, thus
leading to potential misdiagnoses. Improvements in brain
imaging techniques may prove to be a more sensitive tool for
investigating consciousness.
How can science explain consciousness in

vegetative patients?
Researchers have argued for some time that some patients in a
persistent vegetative state can show some signs of consciousness.
For example, some patients have shown rudimentary responses
to language. There have been cases of neurological changes in
response to one’s name (Staffen et al., 2006), as well as the

emotional tone of a speaker’s voice (Kotchoubey et al., 2009).
However, the most stunning example of consciousness in this

patient group was shown by Adrian Owen (now at Western
University) and his colleagues (Owen et al., 2006). In their study,

a 23-year-old patient in a vegetative state was asked to perform
two different mental imagery tasks during an fMRI scan. In one

task, she was asked to imagine playing tennis, an activity
involving a specific set of movements. In the other task, she was

asked to imagine visiting all of the rooms in her house, starting at
the front door (this required her to develop a spatial map of her
house). Despite not being able to respond to any questions

verbally, this patient’s brain showed clear evidence of
understanding the commands. Imagining playing tennis activated

brain areas related to movement; imagining walking through her
house activated a spatial network, including the parahippocampal
gyrus and the parietal lobe. This result provided stunning

evidence that the patient did, in fact, have some degree of
consciousness.
Owen and his colleagues have performed several subsequent
studies with larger groups of patients (Owen, 2013). However,

not all patients are able to modify their own brain activity. In a
study including 54 patients, only five were able to perform the

tennis–house task (Monti et al., 2010). But, one of these patients
was able to do something remarkable: He was able to learn to

use the tennis–house imagery task to communicate! The
experimenters asked him simple questions and told him to

imagine playing tennis if he wanted to respond “yes” and to
imagine walking through his house if he wanted to respond “no”
(see Figure 5.13 ). Using this technique, he was able to

demonstrate that some of his cognitive abilities were preserved.
Of course, we must be cautious and remember that this is only

one patient among dozens who were tested. The ongoing
challenge for researchers is to determine what made the five

“fMRI responders” different from the 49 non- responders, and to
use that information to help identify other patients who might

still retain some degree of consciousness.
Figure 5.13 Using fMRI to Communicate with a Vegetative Patient

Results of two sample communication scans obtained from
Patient 23 (Panels A and C) and a healthy control subject (Panels
B and D) during functional MRI are shown. In Panels A and B,
the observed activity pattern (orange) was very similar to that
observed in the motor-imagery localizer scan (i.e., activity in the
supplementary motor area alone), indicating a “yes” response. In
Panels C and D, the observed activity pattern (blue) was very
similar to that observed in the spatial-imagery localizer scan (i.e.,
activity in both the parahippocampal gyrus and the
supplementary motor area), indicating a “no” response. The
names used in the questions have been changed to protect the
privacy of the patient.
Source: Monti, M. M., et al. (2010). Willful modulation of brain activity in disorders of
consciousness. New England Journal of Medicine, 362(7), 587. Fig. 3 (communication
scans).

The initial neuroimaging studies of consciousness in vegetative
state patients are indeed promising. However, there are some
important issues that need to be dealt with. First, we mentioned
above that up to 43% of patients with disorders of consciousness

are misdiagnosed. Given that a small subset of the vegetative
state patients were able to modify their brain activity, it is
possible that they were not actually in a vegetative state, but
instead had a less severe condition. Second, the researchers are

equating language abilities with consciousness; yet,
consciousness could take the form of responses to other, non-
linguistic stimuli (Overgaard & Overgaard, 2011). This criticism
would be particularly important if a vegetative state patient had
damage to brain areas related to language comprehension.
We also have to be cautious about the use of PET and fMRI scans
in patients with widespread brain damage. Both types of

neuroimaging measure characteristics of blood flow in the brain.
But damage to the brain will alter how the blood flows (Rossini et
al., 2004); therefore, we need to be careful when comparing
patients with healthy controls. One way around this latter

concern is to use multiple methods of neuroimaging (Gawryluk et
al., 2010). Increasing numbers of research groups are using EEG,
which measures neural activity using electrodes attached to the
scalp, to search for brain function in vegetative patients (Cruse et

al., 2011; Wijnen et al., 2007). Given that distinct brain waves
have been identified for sensory detection of a stimulus, the
detection of unexpected auditory stimuli, higher-level analysis of
stimuli, and semantic (meaning) analysis of language, this
technology could provide important insights into the inner
worlds of vegetative state patients. Indeed, Canadian researchers
have developed the EEG-based Halifax Consciousness Scanner
for this specific purpose (Sculthorpe-Petley et al., 2015).

Neuroimaging investigations of consciousness in vegetative state
patients could literally have life-and-death implications.
Currently, doctors have a very difficult time determining a

patient’s level of consciousness if they cannot move or make
some sort of response. However, this information influences the
decision about whether to remove that patient from life support.
If brain imaging could provide insight into the inner world of

patients (or, in some cases, lack thereof), it would provide
doctors and family members with valuable information that
would help them make the right decision for the patient.
Module 5.2 Summary
5.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with hypnosis,

mind-wandering, and disorders of consciousness.
Review Module 5.2
5.2b Understand . . . the competing theories of hypnosis.

Dissociation theory states that hypnosis involves a division between a
lower-level system involved with perception and movement and an

“executive” system that evaluates and monitors these behaviours. In
contrast, the social-cognitive theory states that a person’s beliefs and

expectations about hypnosis heighten his or her willingness to follow
suggestions.
5.2c Apply . . . your knowledge of hypnosis to identify what it

can and cannot do.
Apply Activity
5.2d Analyze . . . the effectiveness of using neuroimaging to

study mind-wandering.
Neuroimaging studies have repeatedly shown that two brain networks—

the default mode network and the frontoparietal network—are more
active when someone is mind-wandering. However, it is important to
remember that brain imaging studies are correlational in nature. The

activity in these networks co-occurs with mind-wandering, but we cannot
say for certain if this activity causes mind-wandering.

5.2e Analyze . . . the ability of researchers to detect
consciousness in brain-damaged patients.
Consciousness is difficult to detect using traditional bedside testing
because many of these testing tools require movement. Using

neuroimaging (specifically fMRI), it has been possible to detect conscious
awareness in some patients who are in a vegetative state, as well as in

patients who are in a minimally conscious state and those with locked-in
syndrome. Although these studies do have some limitations (discussed
earlier in this module), the results show that it is an exciting time for
neuroscience research in Canada!
Module 5.3 Drugs and Conscious
Experience
Nathan Griffith/Alamy Stock Photo

5.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to different categories of
drugs and their effects on the nervous system and behaviour.
5.3b Understand . . . drug tolerance and dependence.
5.3c Apply . . . your knowledge to better understand your own beliefs
about drug use.
5.3d Analyze . . . the difference between spiritual and recreational
drug use.
5.3e Analyze . . . the short- and long-term effects of drug use.
Could taking a drug-induced trip be a way to cope with traumatic stress
or a life-threatening illness? A variety of medications for reducing
anxiety or alleviating depression are readily available. However, a few
doctors and psychologists have suggested that perhaps a six-hour trip

on psychedelic “magic” mushrooms (called psilocybin) could be helpful
to people dealing with difficult psychological and life problems. (It

would also help them communicate with the sparkling trilingual
dragon sighing in the bathtub.)
In the 1960s, a fringe group of psychologists insisted that psychedelic
drugs were the answer to all the world’s problems. The outcast nature of
this group and the ongoing “war on drugs” prompted mainstream
psychologists to shelve any ideas that a psychedelic drug or something

similar could be used in a therapeutic setting. However, this perception
appears to be changing. Recently, Roland Griffiths from Johns Hopkins

University in Maryland has been conducting studies on the possible
therapeutic benefits of psilocybin mushrooms. Cancer patients who
were experiencing depression volunteered to take psilocybin as a part of

Dr. Griffiths’s study. Both at the end of their experience and 14 months
later, they reported having personally meaningful, spiritually
significant experiences that improved their overall outlook on life

(Griffiths et al., 2008). Subsequent studies have shown that psilocybin
mushrooms can help reduce the symptoms of tobacco addiction

(Johnson et al., 2014), and may even increase openness of one’s
personality (MacLean et al., 2011). Although these findings are not

likely to convince your doctor to give you a bag of magic mushrooms,
they do illustrate an important point: most drugs can be used to alter
brain chemistry for both medical and recreational purposes. The line
between “medicine” and “drug” is a blurry one indeed.
Every human culture uses drugs. It could even be argued that every
human uses drugs, depending on your definition of the term. Many of the
foods that we eat contain the same types of compounds found in mind-
altering drugs. For example, nutmeg contains compounds similar to those
found in some psychedelic substances, and chocolate contains small

amounts of the same compounds found in amphetamines and marijuana
(Wenk, 2010). Of course, caffeine and alcohol—both of which are

mainstream parts of our culture—are also drugs. The difference between a
drug and a non-drug compound seems to be that drugs are taken because
the user has an intended effect in mind. Regardless of why we use them,
drugs influence the activity of some elements of our central nervous

system, affecting us both physically and psychologically. In this module,
we will discuss these physical and psychological effects of drug use. We

will then examine how these processes are affected by different classes of
drugs.
Physical and Psychological Effects of
Drugs
Although we often think of drugs as having a simple effect such as
relieving pain or “getting someone high,” the reality is actually much
more complicated. To truly understand the impact of a drug on how
people act and feel, we have to look at both the short-term and the long-
term effects of drugs.

Short-Term Effects
Your brain contains a number of chemical messengers called
neurotransmitters (see Module 3.2 ). These brain chemicals are released
by a neuron (the pre-synaptic neuron) into the synapse, the space
between the cells. They then bind to receptors on the surface of other
neurons (the post-synaptic neurons), thus making these neurons more or

less likely to fire. Drugs influence the amount of activity occurring in the
synapse. Thus, they can serve as an agonist (which enhances or mimics
the activity of a neurotransmitter) or an antagonist (which blocks or
inhibits the activity of a neurotransmitter).
The short-term effects of drugs can be caused by a number of brain
mechanisms, including (1) altering the amount of the neurotransmitter
being released into the synapse, (2) preventing the reuptake (i.e.,
reabsorption back into the cell that released it) of the neurotransmitter
once it has been released, thereby allowing it to have a longer influence

on other neurons, (3) blocking the receptor that the neurotransmitter
would normally bind to, or (4) binding to the receptor in place of the
neurotransmitter. In all of these scenarios, the likelihood of the
postsynaptic neurons firing is changed, resulting in changes to how we
think, act, and feel.
Different drugs will influence different neurotransmitter systems. For
instance, the “club drug” ecstasy primarily affects serotonin levels,
whereas painkillers like OxyContin™ affect opioid receptors. However,

the brain chemical that is most often influenced by drugs is dopamine, a
neurotransmitter involved with the rewarding, pleasurable feelings
associated with many drugs (Volkow et al., 2009). Dopamine release in
two brain areas, the nucleus accumbens and the ventral tegmental area, is
likely related to the “high” associated with many drugs (Koob, 1992; see
Figure 5.14 ). These positive feelings serve an important, and potentially
dangerous, function: They reinforce the drug-taking behaviour. In fact,
the dopamine release in response to many drugs makes them more
rewarding than sex or delicious food (Bassareo & Di Chiara, 1999; Di
Chiara & Imperato, 1988; Fiorino et al., 1997). This reinforcing effect is so
powerful that, for someone who has experience with a particular drug,
even the anticipation of taking the drug is pleasurable and involves the
release of dopamine (Schultz, 2000).
Figure 5.14 Brain Regions Associated with the Effects of Drugs
The nucleus accumbens and ventral tegmental area are associated with
reward responses to many different drugs.
But, the drug–neurotransmitter relationship is not as simple as it would

seem. This is because the effects of drugs involve biological,
psychological, and social mechanisms. Think about the effects of alcohol.

Drinking half a bottle of wine at a party often leads people to be more
outgoing, whereas drinking half a bottle at home might cause them to fall
asleep on the couch. In each case, the drug was the same: alcohol. But the
effects of the drug differed because the situations in which the drug was
consumed changed. The setting in which drugs are consumed can also
have a more sinister effect: Overdoses of some drugs are more common
when they are taken in new environments than when they are taken in a
setting that the person often uses for drug consumption (Siegel et al.,
1982). When people enter an environment that is associated with drug
use, their bodies prepare to metabolize drugs even before they are
consumed (i.e., their bodies become braced for the drug’s effects). Similar
preparations do not occur in new environments, which leads to larger,

and potentially fatal, drug effects (see Module 6.1 ). Another
psychological factor that influences drug effects is the person’s experience

with a drug. It takes time for people to learn to associate taking the drug
with the drug’s effects on the body and brain. Therefore, a drug might
have a much more potent effect on a person the third or fourth time they
took it than it did the first time, which is very common with some drugs,
such as marijuana. Finally, a person’s expectations about the drug can
dramatically influence its effects. If a person believes that alcohol will
make them less shy, then it is likely that a few glasses of wine will have
that effect.
How can we reconcile these psychological effects with the physiological
effects just discussed? To do so, we have to remember that the

psychological states mentioned also influence the activity of brain areas.
For instance, dealing with novel or stressful situations (e.g., being

surrounded by strangers, or your parents arriving home early) often
requires input from the frontal lobes; this activity might reduce the
impact that drugs are having on a person’s behaviour. A similar result can
occur when a person has expectations about a drug. This mental set can
itself change the activity of different brain areas and can alter the effects
of a drug. Thus, the effects of drugs are yet another example of how our
biology and psychology interact to create our conscious experiences.
Long-Term Effects
Importantly, the effects that different drugs will have on us change as we
become frequent users. Think about a drug that most of you use: caffeine
(found in coffee, tea, some soft drinks, and those energy drinks that come
in a tall can that would make Freud raise his eyebrows). The first time
you had a cup of coffee, you were likely wired and unable to sleep. But
veteran coffee drinkers rarely experience such a large burst of energy;
some can even drink coffee before going to bed. This is an example of
tolerance , when repeated use of a drug results in a need for a higher dose to
get the intended effect. While tolerance might seem annoying, it is actually
the brain’s attempt to keep the level of neurotransmitters at stable levels.

When receptors are overstimulated by neurotransmitters, as often
happens during drug use, the neurons fire at a higher rate than normal. In
order to counteract this effect and return the firing rate to normal, some
of the receptors move farther away from the synapse so that they are
more difficult to stimulate, a process known as down-regulation.
Tolerance is not the only effect that can result from long-term use of legal
or illegal drugs. Another is physical dependence , the need to take a drug
to ward off unpleasant physical withdrawal symptoms. The characteristics of
dependence and withdrawal symptoms differ from drug to drug. Caffeine
withdrawal can involve head and muscle aches and impaired
concentration. Withdrawal from long-term alcohol abuse is much more
serious. A person who is dependent on alcohol can experience extremely
severe, even life-threatening, withdrawal symptoms including nausea,

increased heart rate and blood pressure, and hallucinations and delirium.
However, drug dependence is not limited to physical symptoms.
Psychological dependence  occurs when emotional need for a drug develops
without any underlying physical dependence. Many people use drugs in
order to ward off negative emotions. When they no longer have this
defence mechanism, they experience the negative emotions they have
been avoiding, such as stress, depression, shame, or anxiety. Therefore,
treatment programs for addiction often include some form of therapy that
will allow users to learn to cope with these emotional symptoms while
they are attempting to deal with the physical symptoms of withdrawal.
There is no single cause of drug dependence; instead, consistent with the
biopsychosocial model, researchers believe that numerous factors
influence whether someone will become dependent upon a drug as well
as the severity of that dependence. At the biological level, researchers are
attempting to identify the specific genes—or groups of genes—that make
someone prone to becoming addicted to different drugs (Foroud et al.,
2010). For example, the A1 allele of the DRD2 gene, which influences the
activity of dopamine receptors, is related to reward processing and to

being open to new experiences (Peciña et al., 2013); it is also more
common in people who are addicted to opioid drugs such as heroin

(Clarke et al., 2012). In contrast, researchers at the University of Toronto
found that a protective version of the CYP2A6 gene is more common in

people who do not smoke; this version of the gene is related to feelings of
nausea and dizziness occurring when the person is exposed to smoking

(Pianezza et al., 1998). Although we cannot go through a complete list of
the genes involved with responses to various drugs, these examples show
that scientists are rapidly identifying specific genes related to drug-taking
behaviour.
However, genes are obviously not the only cause of drug dependence;
researchers are also examining cognitive factors affecting drug-taking

behaviour. For example, dependence is influenced by the fact that drugs
are often taken in the same situations, such as a cup of coffee to start your
day or alcohol whenever you see particular friends. Eventually, taking the
drug becomes linked in your memory to that setting or that group of
people. When you next see those people or enter that environment,
thoughts of the drug will often resurface, making it more likely that you
will use, or at least crave, that drug.
Addiction rates are also affected by social factors, such as the culture in
which a person lives. For instance, alcoholism rates are lower in religious
and social groups that prohibit drinking even though these groups are
genetically similar to the rest of the population (Chentsova-Dutton &

Tsai, 2007; Haber & Jacob, 2007). Family attitudes toward drugs is a
factor as well, as early experiences with different drugs can shape our
attitudes toward them and influence how we consume those drugs later
in life (Zucker et al., 2008). If a young person first tries wine in a family
setting, it will feel much less like a “cool” part of teenage rebellion than if
that person first tried the same drink at a high school house party. That
initial introduction can alter how that person views alcohol for years to
come.
Drug dependence is also influenced by the social support available. The
importance of this factor was powerfully demonstrated in a classic (if

imperfect) study by Bruce Alexander and his colleagues at Simon Fraser
University in 1978. Research in the 1960s and 1970s had shown that rats
housed in small cages would eagerly press a lever in order to receive
drugs such as morphine; these studies made it appear as though the

chemistry of the drugs made them irresistible. However, another
possibility existed: perhaps the drug-seeking behaviour was due to the

fact that the rats felt isolated, a feeling that mirrors how many drug
addicts report feeling. To test this, the researchers gave caged rats access
to morphine in a way similar to previous studies. After several weeks of

drug consumption, the rats were randomly assigned to different
conditions: a caged group that remained isolated or a social group that
was able to interact with other rats in what became known as Rat Park.
When rats from both conditions were later given the opportunity to press
a lever to receive morphine, the isolated rats were much more likely to do
so than the social rats. This effect was particularly apparent in females
(see Figure 5.15 ). These findings suggest that a key factor in drug
dependence is a feeling of isolation.
Figure 5.16 Rat Park

In the Rat Park study, all rats self-administered morphine for several
weeks. They were then randomly divided into two conditions. Rats that
were able to socialize with other rats showed less drug-seeking behaviour
than rats that were housed in isolation. This effect was largest in females.
Source: Republished with permission of Springer Science, from Alexander, B.K., Coambs, R., B, &
Hadaway, P.F. (1978). The effect of housing and gender on morphine self-administration in rats.
Psychopharmacology 58.
Finally, all of these variables interact with a person’s personality;
individuals with impulsive personality traits are more likely to become

addicted to drugs regardless of their early experiences or cultural setting
(Lejuez et al., 2010; Perry & Carroll, 2008). Thus, drug dependence does
not have a single, simple cause, but is instead influenced by a number of
interacting factors, as would be expected by the biopsychosocial model of
behaviour.
Commonly Abused Illegal Drugs
Thus far, we have discussed some of the ways in which drugs can affect
our brain and our behaviour. These drugs are categorized based on their
effects on the nervous system. Drugs can speed up the nervous system,
slow it down, stimulate its pleasure centres, or distort how it processes
the world. Table 5.3  provides an overview of some of the better-known

drugs.
Table 5.3 The Major Categories of Drugs

Almost all of the drugs discussed in this chapter are known as
psychoactive drugs , substances that affect thinking, behaviour, perception,
and emotion. However, not all of them are legal. As you will see, the
boundary between illicit recreational drugs and legal prescription drugs
can be razor-thin at times. Many common prescription medications are
chemically similar, albeit safer, versions of illicit drugs; additionally, many
legal prescription drugs are purchased illegally and used in ways not
intended by the manufacturer.

Stimulants
Stimulants  are a category of drugs that speed up the activity of the nervous
system, typically enhancing wakefulness and alertness. There are a number of
types of stimulant drugs, ranging from naturally occurring substances
such as leaves (cocaine) and beans (coffee) to drugs produced in a
laboratory (crystal meth). Additionally, each drug has its own unique
effect on the nervous system, influencing the levels of specific
neurotransmitters in one of the four ways discussed earlier in this
module.
The most widely used—and perhaps abused—stimulant is one that is

likely in front of you as you read this: caffeine. Caffeine is obviously not
illegal; however, because its neural mechanisms are similar to other
stimulants, we will discuss it here. Caffeine can be found in many
substances, including coffee, tea, many soft drinks, and chocolate. It
should come as no surprise that caffeine tends to temporarily increase

energy levels and alertness. It produces these effects by influencing the
activity of a brain chemical called adenosine. When adenosine binds to its
receptors in the brain, it slows down neural activity. In fact, it helps you
become sleepy. Caffeine binds to adenosine receptors, but without
causing a reduction in neural activity. In other words, it prevents
adenosine from doing its job. At the same time, caffeine stimulates the
adrenal glands to release adrenaline. This hormone accounts for the burst
of energy associated with caffeine. Given that adrenaline is also
associated with “fight or flight” responses, it may also explain why many
people feel jittery after consuming too much caffeine. Although no drug is
harmless, the withdrawal effects associated with caffeine are far less
severe than those found for other stimulants. Depriving yourself of
caffeine will typically result in headaches, fatigue, and occasionally
nausea; however, these symptoms will usually disappear after two to
three days. Other stimulants are not so forgiving.
Cocaine is another commonly abused stimulant. It is synthesized from
coca leaves, most often grown in South American countries such as
Colombia, Peru, and Bolivia. The people who harvest these plants often
take the drug in its simplest form—they chew on the leaves and
experience a mild increase in energy. However, by the time it reaches
Canadian markets, it has been processed into powder form. It is typically
snorted and absorbed into the bloodstream through the nasal passages
or, if prepared as crack cocaine, smoked in a pipe. Cocaine influences the
nervous system by blocking the reuptake of dopamine in reward centres
of the brain, although it can also influence serotonin and norepinephrine
levels as well (see Figure 5.16 ). By preventing dopamine from being
reabsorbed by the neuron that released it, cocaine increases the amount
of dopamine in the synapse between the cells, thus making the
postsynaptic cell more likely to fire. The result is an increase in energy

levels and a feeling of euphoria.
Figure 5.16 Stimulant Effects on the Brain

Like many addictive drugs, cocaine and amphetamines stimulate the
reward centres of the brain, including the nucleus accumbens and ventral
tegmental area. Cocaine works by blocking the reuptake of dopamine,
and methamphetamine works by increasing the release of dopamine at
presynaptic neurons.
Watch Stimulant Effects on the Brain

Amphetamines, another group of stimulants, come in a variety of forms.
Some are prescription drugs, such as methylphenidate (Ritalin) and
modafinil (Provigil), which are typically prescribed for attention deficit

hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and narcolepsy, respectively. When used
as prescribed, these drugs can have beneficial effects; oftentimes,
however, these drugs are used recreationally. Other stimulants, such as

methamphetamine, are not prescribed drugs. Methamphetamine, which
stimulates the release of dopamine in presynaptic cells (see Figure
5.16 ), may be even more potent than cocaine when it comes to
addictive potential. (Crystal meth, a drug made famous by the TV program

Breaking Bad, is a form of methamphetamine that has undergone
additional chemical refinement to remove impurities.)
Methamphetamines are also notorious for causing significant neurological
and external physical problems. For example, chronic methamphetamine
abusers often experience deterioration of their facial features, teeth, and

gums, owing to a combination of factors. First, methamphetamine
addiction can lead to neglect of basic dietary and hygienic care. Second,
the drug is often manufactured from a potent cocktail of substances,
including hydrochloric acid and farm fertilizer—it is probably not

surprising that these components can have serious side effects that harm
a person’s appearance and health.
Theresa Baxter was 42 when the picture on the left was taken. The photo
on the right was taken 2.5 years later; the effects of methamphetamine
are obvious and striking.
Multnomah County Sheriff/Splash/Newscom
Long-term use of potent stimulants like methamphetamines can actually

alter the structure of the user’s brain. Compared to non-users, people
who have a history of abusing methamphetamine have been shown to
have structural abnormalities of cells in the frontal lobes, which reduce

the brain’s ability to inhibit irrelevant thoughts (Tobias et al., 2010). This
ability can be measured through the Stroop test (Figure 5.17 ), which
challenges a person’s ability to inhibit reading a word in favour of
identifying its colour. Methamphetamine abusers had greater difficulty

with this task than non-users.
Figure 5.17 The Stroop Task
The Stroop task requires you to read aloud the colour of the letters of
these sample words. The task measures your ability to inhibit a natural
tendency to read the word, rather than identify the colour. Chronic
methamphetamine users have greater difficulty with this task than do
non-users.
Changes in brain structure have also been noted in chronic users of

ecstasy  (3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine or MDMA ), a
drug that is typically classified as a stimulant, but also has hallucinogenic effects
(Cowan et al., 2008). MDMA was developed in 1912 by the German
pharmaceutical company Merck KGaA; it was originally designed as a
blood-clotting agent (Meyer, 2013). In the late 1970s, it was rediscovered
by a chemist at the Dow chemical company, who described its emotional

and sensual effects (Shulgin & Nichols, 1978). In the 1980s, it was
labelled a “club drug” because of its frequent appearance at nightclub and
rave parties. Ecstasy exerts its influence on the brain by stimulating the
release of massive amounts of the neurotransmitter serotonin; it also
blocks its reuptake, thereby ensuring that neurons containing serotonin

receptors will fire at levels much greater than normal. Ecstasy heightens
physical sensations and is known to increase social bonding and
compassion among those who are under its influence. Unfortunately, this
drug has also been linked to a number of preventable deaths. Heat stroke
and dehydration are major risks associated with ecstasy use, especially
when the drug is taken at a rave where there is a high level of physical
exertion from dancing in an overheated environment. It can also lead to
lowered mood two to five days after consumption, as it takes time for
serotonin levels to return to normal (Curran & Travill, 1997).

It often comes as a surprise to learn that the very substances that people
can become addicted to, or whose possession and use can even land them
in prison today, were once ingredients in everyday products. Cocaine was
once used as an inexpensive, over-the-counter pain remedy. A concoction
of wine and cocaine was popular, and the drug was also added to cough
syrups and drops for treating toothaches. Coca-Cola used to contain 9 mg
of cocaine per glass; this practice ceased in 1903 (Liebowitz, 1983).
Advertising Archive/Courtesy Everett Collection
The long-term effects of ecstasy use are difficult to identify because most
users of this drug also abuse other illegal substances. That said, recent
neuroimaging studies with long-term ecstasy users have highlighted some

of the effects this drug can have on the brain (Urban et al., 2012). For
instance, several studies have shown that MDMA impairs the sensitivity
of many visual regions in the occipital lobe (Oliveri & Calvo, 2003; White
et al., 2013) as well as some parts of the frontal lobes (Roberts et al.,
2018). These studies also show that chronic ecstasy users require more
brain activity in order to perform cognitive tasks at the same level as non-
users (Roberts et al., 2015). It should be noted, however, that the neural
effects of ecstasy are not as pronounced in occasional users of the drug

(Mueller et al., 2016). In fact, some researchers have suggested that
occasional doses of ecstasy could be used alongside traditional

psychotherapy when treating people with posttraumatic stress disorder
(PTSD), a severe anxiety disorder involving intrusive memories of a
traumatic event (see Module 16.3 ). A 2018 clinical trial found that 76%
of the patients treated with MDMA no longer met the clinical criteria for
PTSD (Ot’alora et al., 2018). However, given the potential dangers of

MDMA, it is unlikely that these positive clinical results will lead to
changes in the legal status of this drug.

Hallucinogens
Hallucinogenic drugs , also known as psychedelics , are substances that
produce perceptual distortions. Depending on the type of hallucinogen
consumed, these distortions may be visual, auditory, and sometimes
tactile in nature, such as the experience of crawling sensations against the
skin. Hallucinogens also alter how people perceive their own thinking.
For example, deep significance may be attached to what are normally
mundane objects, events, or thoughts. One commonly used hallucinogen
is LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide) , which is a laboratory-made
(synthetic) drug that triggers unusual sensory experiences. A recent study
examined brain activity of individuals after they had just taken LSD
(Carhart-Harris et al., 2016). These researchers found that the LSD
experience involves greater activity in visual areas. The scans also found
that visual stimuli triggered activity in a number of areas outside of the
visual cortex (see Figure 5.18 ); this activity strongly correlated with
participants’ reports of unusual visual experiences. The researchers also

noted reduced connectivity between areas in the temporal and parietal
lobe; these changes were related to feelings of “losing oneself” and
finding “altered meanings.” These results show the strong link between
brain activity and moment-to-moment experiences.
Figure 5.18 LSD and the Brain

Taking LSD often leads to unusual sensory experiences. A 2016 study
examined the brain activity associated with these experiences. One the
left, you can see a normal neural response to viewing a visual stimulus
after taking a placebo drug. On the right, you can see the brain response
when someone views the same stimulus while on LSD. Note the activity
in brain areas not typically associated with vision.
Hallucinogenic substances also occur in nature, such as psilocybin (a
mushroom) and mescaline (derived from the peyote cactus).

Hallucinogens can have very long-lasting effects—more than 12 hours for
LSD, for example. These drugs may also elicit powerful emotional
experiences that range from extreme euphoria to fear, panic, and
paranoia. The two most common hallucinogens, LSD and psilocybin,
both act on the transmission of serotonin.
Short-acting hallucinogens have become increasingly popular for

recreational use. The effects of two of these hallucinogens, ketamine and
DMT (dimethyltryptamine), last for about an hour. Ketamine was

originally developed as a surgical anesthetic to be used in cases where a
gaseous anesthetic could not be applied, such as on the battlefield. It has
been gaining popularity among university students as well as among

people who frequent dance clubs and raves. Ketamine induces dream-like
states, memory loss, dizziness, confusion, and a distorted sense of body

ownership (i.e., feeling like your body and voice don’t belong to you; Fu
et al., 2005; Morgan et al., 2010). This synthetic drug blocks receptors for
glutamate, which is an excitatory neurotransmitter that is important for,
among other things, memory.
The short-acting hallucinogen known as DMT occurs naturally in such

different places as the bark from trees native to Central and South
America and on the skin surface of certain toads. DMT is even found in
very small, naturally produced amounts in the human nervous system

(Fontanilla et al., 2009). The function of DMT in the brain remains
unclear, although some researchers have speculated that it plays a role in

sleep and dreaming, and even out-of-body experiences (Barbanoj et al.,
2008; Strassman, 2001). DMT is used in Canada primarily for recreational

purposes. Users frequently report having intense “spiritual” experiences,
such as feeling connected to or communicating with divine beings (as

well as aliens, plant spirits, and other beings that aren’t part of most
modern people’s version of reality). In fact, its ability to apparently

enhance spiritual experiences has been well known in South American
indigenous cultures. DMT is the primary psychoactive ingredient in
ayahuasca, which plays a central role in shamanistic rituals involving

contact with the spirit world. An increasing number of Canadians have
used another drug, salvia divinorum, for similar purposes.
Salvia divinorum  is an herb that grows in Central and South America.
When smoked or chewed, salvia induces highly intense but short-lived
hallucinations. Use of this drug also leads to dissociative experiences—a

detachment between self and body (Sumnall et al., 2011). Among the
Mazateca people of Mexico, salvia is used in divine rituals in which an
individual communicates with the spiritual world. Shamans of the
Mazateca people use salvia for spiritual healing sessions, as they believe
the drug has profound medicinal properties. At present, there is no
scientific evidence to support this view. The legal status of salvia changed
in February 2016. Previously, it had been listed as a natural product under
the control of Health Canada; although technically illegal, regulations
controlling salvia were not strictly enforced. However, it is now listed as a

Schedule IV drug under the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act. It is
illegal to sell, cultivate, or transport salvia.
Many hallucinogens can have serious negative consequences on users,

ranging from memory problems to unwanted “flashbacks” in which the
user re-experiences the visual distortions and emotional changes
associated with the psychedelic state (Halpern & Pope, 2003). However,
as you read in the introduction to this module, some hallucinogens are
now being used to treat a number of clinical conditions. LSD has been
used to help people deal with the anxiety associated with terminal
illnesses (Gasser et al., 2015). Psilocybin (magic mushrooms), ayahuasca,
and DMT have all been used to help reduce addiction to tobacco and
alcohol (Tupper et al., 2015). Obviously these drugs are generally only
used when traditional treatments are ineffective. But it does demonstrate
that the line between “recreational drugs” and “medical drugs” is not as
clear cut as we might think.
Opiates
Opiates  (also called narcotics) are drugs such as heroin and morphine that
reduce pain and induce extremely intense feelings of euphoria. These drugs
bind to endorphin receptors in the nervous system. Endorphins
(“endogenous morphine”) are neurotransmitters that reduce pain and
produce pleasurable sensations—effects magnified by opiates. Naturally

occurring opiates are derived from certain species of poppy plants that
are primarily grown in Asia and the Middle East (particularly
Afghanistan). Opiate drugs are very common in medical and emergency
room settings. For example, the drug fentanyl is used in emergency rooms
to treat people in extreme pain. A street version of fentanyl, known as

“China White,” can be more than 20 times the strength of more
commonly sold doses of heroin. This drug is so dangerous that in April
2016, British Columbia declared a public health emergency after more
than 200 people died from overdoses of the drug. Preventative policies
have had little effect—nearly 4000 Canadians died from opioid overdoses
in 2017 alone (an increase of 34% from 2016) (Government of Canada,
2017). Yet despite the well-publicized dangers, people continue to use it.
Treating opiate addiction can be incredibly challenging. Opiates produce
very rapid and powerful “highs”; because the time between injecting or
smoking opiates and their physical impact is so short, it is easy for people
to mentally link the drug to the pleasurable feeling. This increases the
addictiveness of these drugs. People who are addicted to opiates and
other highly addictive drugs enter a negative cycle of having to use these
drugs simply to ward off withdrawal effects, rather than to actually
achieve the sense of euphoria they may have experienced when they
started using them. Methadone is an opioid (a synthetic opiate) that binds
to opiate receptors but does not give the same kind of high that heroin
does. A regimen of daily methadone treatment can help people who are
addicted to opiates avoid painful withdrawal symptoms as they learn to
cope without the drug. In recent years, newer alternatives to methadone
have been found to be more effective and need to be taken only a few
times per week.
Another opioid, oxycodone (OxyContin), has helped many people reduce
severe pain while having relatively few side effects. Unfortunately, this
drug, along with a similar product, Percocet, has very high abuse
potential. It is often misused, especially by those who have obtained it
through illegal means (i.e., without a prescription). Indeed, the abuse of
prescription opiates is a growing problem in Canada, particularly among
high school students and the elderly (Sproule et al., 2009); this topic will
be discussed in more detail later in this module.

Legal Drugs and Their Effects on
Consciousness
So far we have covered drugs that are, for the most part, produced and
distributed illegally. Some prescription drugs can also have profound
effects on consciousness and, as a consequence, are targets for misuse.

Sedatives
Sedative drugs , sometimes referred to as “downers,” depress activity of the
central nervous system. Barbiturates were an early form of medication used
to treat anxiety and promote sleep. High doses of these drugs can shut
down the brainstem regions that regulate breathing, so their medical use
has largely been discontinued in favour of safer drugs. Barbiturates have a

high potential for abuse, typically by people who want to lower
inhibitions, relax, and try to improve their sleep. (Incidentally, while
these agents may knock you out, they do not really improve the quality of
sleep. Barbiturates actually reduce the amount of REM sleep.)
Newer forms of sedative drugs, called benzodiazepines, include
prescription drugs such as Xanax, Ativan, and Valium. These drugs
increase the effects of gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA), an inhibitory
neurotransmitter that helps reduce feelings of anxiety or panic. The major
advantage of benzodiazepine drugs over barbiturates is that they do not

specifically target the brain regions responsible for breathing and, even at
high doses, are unlikely to be fatal. However, people under the influence
of any kind of sedative are at greater risk for injury or death due to
accidents caused by their diminished attention, reaction time, and
coordination.
Prescription Drug Abuse
Prescription drugs are commonly abused by illicit users; over 15% of
Canadian high school students have reported abusing prescription drugs
at some point in their lives (Hammond et al., 2010; Figure 5.19 ). The
prevalence of prescription drug abuse becomes even more extreme when
these students enter university. Surveys have shown that as many as 31%
of university students sampled have abused Ritalin, the stimulant
commonly prescribed as a treatment for ADHD (Bogle & Smith, 2009).
Figure 5.19 Frequency of Drug Use among Grade 12 Students

The abuse of prescription and over-the-counter drugs is becoming
increasingly common in Canada. In a 2008 nationwide survey, over 15%
of Grade 12 students admitted to illegally using these drugs at least once.
This figure illustrates how the prevalence of prescription drug abuse
compares to that of other frequently abused substances.
Source: Based on Hammond, D., Ahmed, R., Burkhalter, R., Sae Yang, W., & Leatherdale, S.
(2010). Illicit substance use among Canadian youth: Trends between 2002 and 2008. Canadian
Journal of Public Health, 102, 7–12.
A massive number of prescription drugs is available on the market,

including stimulants, opiates, and sedatives. In 2011, 3.2% of Canadians
(approximately 1.1 million people) used prescription drugs for

nonmedical reasons within the year prior to the survey (Government of
Canada, 2012). Users typically opt for prescription drugs as their drugs of
choice because they are legal (when used as prescribed), pure (i.e., not
contaminated or diluted), and relatively easy to get. Prescription drugs

are typically taken at large doses, and administered in such a way as to
get a quicker, more intense effect—for example, by crushing and snorting
stimulants such as Ritalin (see Figure 5.20 ).
Figure 5.20 Ritalin and Cocaine
Stimulants like methylphenidate (Ritalin) affect the same areas of the

brain as cocaine, albeit with different speed and intensity.
The National Institute on Drug Abuse
Some of the most commonly abused prescription drugs in Canada are
painkillers such as OxyContin. When used normally, OxyContin is a

pain-reliever that slowly releases an opioid over the course of
approximately 12 hours, thus making it a relatively safe product (Roth et

al., 2000). However, crushing the OxyContin tablet frees its opioid
component, oxycodone, from the slow-release mechanism; it can then be

inhaled or dissolved in liquid and injected to provide a rapid “high”
(Carise et al., 2007). Almost 80% of people entering treatment programs

for OxyContin abuse admitted that the drug was not prescribed to them,
suggesting that there is a flourishing trade in this drug. Indeed, a recent

study of drug users in Vancouver found that OxyContin is quite easy to
purchase illegally in Canada (Nosyk et al., 2012); not surprisingly, the
number of people entering drug rehabilitation programs for oxycodone
abuse is also increasing (Sproule et al., 2009). In order to counteract this

trend, Purdue Pharma Canada, the company that makes the drug, has
replaced it with a similar substance, OxyNeo, that is more difficult to
grind up into a powder. However, this action will likely have little effect
on addiction rates—in April 2013, the federal government allowed six
pharmaceutical companies to begin manufacturing generic (cheaper)
versions of the drug.
Curbing prescription drug abuse poses quite a challenge, particularly

given that many pharmaceutical companies attempt to curry favour with
physicians by providing them with generous speaking fees and free meals
(Hadland et al., 2018). One approach to reducing prescription drug abuse
is to develop pain medications that do not act on pleasure and reward

centres of the brain. A second approach, used by many Canadian
communities, is to provide opportunities for people to safely dispose of
unused prescription drugs; doing so helps remove unused drugs from
actual or potential circulation. In addition, doctors and other health care

professionals are becoming increasingly aware that some individuals
seeking prescription drugs are doing so because they are addicted to
them. The increased use of digital medical records may help prevent
drug-seeking individuals from getting the same prescription from
multiple doctors.
Alcohol
Alcohol can be found in nearly every culture, although some frown on its
use more than others. Alcohol use is a part of many cherished social and
spiritual rituals, but is also associated with violence and accidents. It has
the power to change societies, in some cases for the worse. Several
decades ago, “problem drinking” was not an issue for the Carib people of
Venezuela, for example. During specific yearly festivals, alcohol was
brewed and consumed in limited amounts. In more recent years, the
influence of Western civilization has led to the emergence of problems
with alcohol abuse and alcoholism in this group of people (Seale et al.,
2002). Most societies regard alcohol as an acceptable form of drug use,

though they may attempt to limit and regulate its use through legal
means. Customs and social expectations also affect usage. For example,
drinking—especially heavy drinking—is generally considered more
socially acceptable for men than for women (de Visser & McDonnell,
2012).
Alcohol has a number of effects on the brain. It initially targets GABA
receptors, and subsequently affects opiate and dopamine receptors. The
stimulation of opiate and dopamine receptors accounts for the euphoria
associated with lower doses as well its rewarding effects. The release of
GABA, an inhibitory neurotransmitter, reduces the activity of the central
nervous system, which helps explain the impairments in balance and
coordination associated with consumption of alcohol. But if alcohol
increases the release of an inhibitory brain chemical, why do people

become less inhibited when they drink? The reason for this behaviour is
that alcohol inhibits the frontal lobes of the brain. One function of the
frontal lobes is to inhibit behaviour and impulses, and alcohol appears to
impair the frontal lobe’s ability to do so—in other words, it inhibits an
inhibitor.
The lowered inhibitions associated with alcohol may help people muster
the courage to perform a toast at a wedding, but many socially
unacceptable consequences are also associated with alcohol use. Alcohol
abuse has been linked to health problems, sexual and physical assault,
automobile accidents, missing work or school, unplanned pregnancies,
and contracting sexually transmitted diseases (Griffin et al., 2010). These
effects are primarily associated with heavy consumption, which can often
lead to alcohol myopia (Steele & Josephs, 1990). When intoxicated, people
often pay more attention to cues related to their desires and impulses
(e.g., the attractive-looking person on the couch at the party) and less
attention to cues related to inhibiting those desires (e.g., friends telling
them to stop drinking, or the lecture about safe sex that they received in
their sex-education class). This tendency to focus on short-term rewards

rather than long-term consequences is particularly noticeable in underage
drinkers whose frontal lobes (which help inhibit behaviour) are not fully
developed. Alcohol myopia is also more likely to occur in people with low
self-esteem; these individuals may focus on their fear of social rejection

and respond by engaging in risky behaviours that they feel will lead to
social acceptance (MacDonald & Martineau, 2002).
Psych@
University Parties
Researchers have determined that university students drink
significantly more than their peers who do not attend university

(Carter et al., 2010). However, although heavy drinking—
particularly on the weekend—is often associated with positive

emotions (Howard et al., 2015), it can lead to some serious
consequences for students. In one study, nearly half of the
university student participants binge-drank, one-third drove

under the influence, 10% to 12% sustained an injury or were
assaulted while intoxicated, and 2% were victims of date rape

while drinking (Hingson et al., 2009). Alcohol abuse in our
society is widespread, especially during times of celebration

(Glindemann et al., 2007), so it might seem as if universities
have few options at their disposal to reduce reckless drinking

on campus. Psychologists Kent Glindemann, Scott Geller, and
their associates, however, have conducted some interesting

field studies in fraternity houses at their U.S. university. For
example, in two separate studies, these researchers measured
the typical blood-alcohol level at fraternity parties. They then

offered monetary awards or entry into a raffle for fraternities
that could keep their average blood-alcohol level below 0.05 at

their next party. The interventions proved to be successful in
both studies, with blood-alcohol levels being significantly

reduced from the baseline (Fournier et al., 2004; Glindemann et
al., 2007).
Marijuana
The final drug to be discussed in this module was only recently legalized
in Canada. Marijuana  is a drug comprising the leaves and buds of the
Cannabis plant that produces a combination of hallucinogenic, stimulant, and
relaxing (narcotic) effects. These buds contain a high concentration of a
compound called tetrahydrocannabinol (THC). THC mimics anandamide,

a chemical that occurs naturally in the brain and the peripheral nerves.
Both anandamide and THC bind to cannabinoid receptors and induce
feelings of euphoria, relaxation, reduced pain, and heightened and
sometimes distorted sensory experiences (Edwards et al., 2012; Ware et
al., 2010). They also stimulate one’s appetite (Kirkham, 2009). Although
“having the munchies” might seem like a funny side effect for recreational
users, it is an incredibly important benefit for cancer sufferers who use
medicinal marijuana to counteract the nausea and lack of appetite that
occurs following chemotherapy (Machado Rocha et al., 2008).
From the above list, it is clear that marijuana use can affect a number of
different behaviours. Missing from this list, however, are the effects that
this drug can have on our cognitive abilities.

Marijuana, Memory, and Cognition
No one doubts that marijuana affects a person’s thinking and
behaviour. That said, descriptions of the exact nature of these

effects are often more anecdotal than scientific. The earliest
reference to marijuana is found in the ancient Hindu text Raja
Nirghanta, which translates the drug as “promoter of success,”
“the cause of the reeling gait,” and “the laughter moving” (see
Chopra & Chopra, 1957). Indeed. More recent descriptions have
noted that marijuana’s effects on one’s ability to think are both
widespread and testable.
What do we know about the effects of

marijuana on memory and cognition?
Studies of people under the influence of marijuana have
demonstrated a number of different impairments to memory
processes (Crean et al., 2011). Several researchers have
confirmed that marijuana disrupts short-term memory

(Ranganathan & D’Souza, 2006). Studies of long-term memory
have indicated that marijuana use was associated with a reduced
ability to recall information (Auer et al., 2016) and a greater
tendency to commit intrusion errors—adding in words that were
not actually on a list of to-be-remembered items (Hooker &
Jones, 1987; Pfefferbaum et al., 1977). Marijuana also affects a
number of cognitive abilities. Executive functions, such as

decision making and the control of attention, are critical for
dealing with novel situations and for changing or inhibiting
responses to stimuli in the environment. Many executive
functions are impaired by THC. For instance, marijuana impairs
people’s ability to problem solve and to change their strategies
while performing a task (Bolla et al., 2002; Pope et al., 2003). It
may impair creative thinking and attention as well (Hermann et
al., 2007; Kowal et al., 2015).
How can science explain these effects?

Neuroimaging results indicate that the memory and cognitive
difficulties experienced by people who smoke marijuana are
likely related to changes in their brains. A number of studies have
noted that reduced performance on memory tests is related to
decreases in brain activity in the right frontal lobe (Block et al.,
2002; Jager et al., 2007), an area involved with memory retrieval
(Tulving et al., 1994). Interestingly, some researchers have found
that even when marijuana users and healthy control participants
produce the same results on a memory test, their brains generate
different patterns of activity. For instance, Kanayama and

colleagues (2004) found that participants who had recently
smoked marijuana (< 24 hours ago) were able to perform a

spatial memory task; but doing so recruited a much more
widespread network of brain regions, including several that are

not typically associated with memory. This suggests that the
brains of marijuana users need to work harder to reach the same
level of performance, oftentimes relying on additional brain

structures to meet the demands of the task (Jager et al., 2006).
Problems with executive functions can also be explained, at least
in part, by differing patterns of brain activity. The inability to

inhibit responses on a Stroop task (which was discussed earlier in
this module) was related to the fact that marijuana users had less
activity than healthy controls in a number of frontal-lobe regions
(Eldreth et al., 2004; Gruber & Yurgelun-Todd, 2005). These
studies also demonstrated that, similar to the memory studies,

the brains of marijuana users had additional activity in areas not
typically associated with the task they were performing. In other

words, these brains had to find alternative networks to allow
them to compensate for the effects of marijuana so that they

could still perform the task (Martín-Santos et al., 2010).

When we look at these data, we have to remember that fMRI
activity is correlational. The orange and yellow “lights” in the
brain pictures represent areas that are activated at the same time
that a person is performing a task; but it doesn’t mean that those
areas are causing the person’s behaviour. More importantly, we

have to think of the participants in drug studies. Many of the
people involved in these studies use more than one drug (e.g.,
marijuana plus alcohol, tobacco, and possibly other drugs). It is
therefore difficult to isolate the effects of marijuana by itself on
cognition.
One way to get around these problems is to look at which areas

of the brain are involved with these different abilities and then
see if marijuana targets those areas. As it turns out, a receptor
sensitive to THC, the cannabinoid (CB1) receptor, is found

throughout the hippocampus and in the medial part of the frontal
lobes (Pertwee & Ross, 2002; see Figure 5.21 ). Importantly,
stimulating these receptors can lead to impairments in short-term
memory and higher-level thinking (Ranganathan & D’Souza,

2006). Thus, there is a cellular-level mechanism that can explain
(some of) the odd behaviours that you see when people are
smoking up.
Figure 5.21 CB1 Receptors in the Brain
The locations of the CB1 receptors, which bind to the active

ingredient in marijuana, help explain the diverse effects users
often experience. CB1 receptors are found in the frontal lobes
(executive functions), hippocampus (memory), and cerebellum
(coordination of movement). They are also found in the nucleus
accumbens, an area related to the rewarding feeling associated
with many drugs.
Courtesy of National Institute of Drug Abuse

Marijuana use seems, to many people, harmless and funny.
What’s so bad about spending hours getting high, watching
cartoons, and eating chips? But, although occasional use has not
been linked to serious cognitive consequences, recent

brainimaging studies of long-term smokers showed reduced
amounts of grey matter (neurons) in memory regions of the
temporal lobe (Battistella et al., 2014); there were also fewer

white-matter connections involving this brain area (Zalesky et al.,
2012). In other words, chronic marijuana use can influence how
parts of the brain transmit and receive information. Heavy long-
term use of marijuana is also related to a four-point decline in IQ
scores (a number that isn’t huge, but is still something to think

about; Fried et al., 2002). Importantly, the strains of marijuana
that are currently available tend to be higher in THC content than
the strains available to previous generations of drug users
(Hardwick & King, 2008). It is possible, therefore, that the small

cognitive deficits found in current studies of long-term marijuana
users may be magnified in young people who are just beginning
to use this drug.
Marijuana and the Teenage Brain
Marijuana use often starts during the teenage years. From a neurological
perspective, early drug use is a particular cause for concern (Lubman et
al., 2015). The brain develops in a step-by-step fashion, with higher-order
cognitive areas—particularly the frontal lobes—developing after other
areas have fully matured (Gogtay et al., 2004). As part of this step-by-step
development, the white-matter fibres connecting brain regions grow and
form new connections while unnecessary synapses are pruned away.
Marijuana use during the teenage years has been shown to impair both of
these developmental processes (Gruber et al., 2014). It has also been
linked with thinning (i.e., fewer cells) in a number of cortical areas

(Mashhoon et al., 2015; Price et al., 2015) and smaller hippocampal
volumes (Ashtari et al., 2009).
These changes in the brain’s development can affect cognitive abilities.
Increasing evidence indicates that the effects of marijuana on memory

and executive functions are much larger in people who started taking the
drug before the age of 17 (Brook et al., 2008; Pope et al., 2003). In other
words, using marijuana during an earlier stage of development can have a
much larger effect on a person’s future than if the same dose were to be
consumed or smoked later in life (Squeglia et al., 2009). These data
therefore suggest that prevention programs should specifically target
teens to ensure that their cognitive abilities don’t go up in smoke.

It is important to note that if you did smoke marijuana before the age of
17, your life isn’t ruined. It just means that if you continue to frequently
use marijuana, you are statistically more likely to have memory and
executive functioning programs later in life. It is quite possible that your
brain will recover. You can help it bounce back by reducing your
consumption of drugs and by engaging in behaviours that help increase
the thickness of white-matter pathways in the frontal lobes (e.g.,
mindfulness training; see Modules 14.3  and 16.2 ). So, you have a lot
of control over what happens to your brain.
Currently, marijuana is the most commonly used recreational drug in
Canada. Indeed, a survey released in October 2018 showed that that 27%
of Canadians aged 15–24 had used marijuana in the three months prior to
the survey (Statistics Canada, 2018). This high usage rate reflects, in part,
the fact that this drug has traditionally been so readily available. It
remains to be seen whether the number of teens and young adults using
marijuana will be affected by the legalization of marijuana.

Why Are Some Drugs Legal and Others
Illegal?
On October 17, 2018, marijuana was legalized in Canada. People across
the country lined up—in some cases for hours—at midnight to purchase
marijuana from registered retailers. Provincial governments reported

millions of dollars in purchases in the first week alone. This recent change
in the legal status of marijuana in Canada (and in some U.S. states) leads
us to an interesting question: Why are some drugs legal and others
illegal?
It is relatively easy to understand some decisions, such as making drugs
with intense effects (such as opium) illegal, but allowing chemically
similar drugs with weaker effects (such as OxyContin) to be legal (at
least, with prescriptions). But some distinctions are less clear. Nicotine is
more addictive than THC, the active ingredient in marijuana, yet the sale
of tobacco products is legal while the sale of marijuana is not legal in
most parts of the world. As you read earlier in this module, alcohol can
lead to violence and many risky behaviours; marijuana’s most dangerous
effects are to the lungs and to short-term memory (and perhaps the
waistline). One possible argument for the difference is that we know
much more about how alcohol affects behaviours such as driving. The
Breathalyzer is a relatively effective method of measuring blood alcohol
levels, and researchers have tested the effects of alcohol on driving
ability. There is much more uncertainly about the effects of marijuana on

driving. This is obviously concerning, particularly given that one in seven
marijuana users admitted to driving within two hours of smoking up
(Statistics Canada, 2018). Based on this paragraph alone, you can see how
people could strongly favour—or oppose—the legalization of marijuana.
The decision to legalize or criminalize a drug is not a simple one.
Some countries, such as Portugal, have gone ahead and decriminalized
drugs. The rationale for doing so was that the “War on Drugs” was not
decreasing addiction rates but was costing billions of dollars to fight.
Neighbouring countries were understandably nervous—if Portugal turned
into a drug haven, this activity would undoubtedly affect other

Mediterranean nations. However, an examination of drug use in Portugal,
Spain, and Italy suggests that decriminalization had little effect on drug
use. Between 2001 (the year Portugal decriminalized drugs) and 2007, the
number of Portuguese people who reported consuming any recreational
drug in the previous 12 months increased 0.3%. These results were
almost identical to drug use in Spain and were lower than the levels of
drug use in Italy, even though drugs were illegal in both of those
countries (Hughes & Stevens, 2010).
The purpose of this section is not to promote one drug or another, nor is
it to promote any political agenda. Rather, this information should

promote critical thinking and the use of science when making decisions.
Today’s young people will likely be asked to make legal decisions about a
number of drugs ranging from magic mushrooms to several often-abused
prescription drugs. Using rigorously controlled experiments to test the

physiological and psychological effects of different drugs—and paying
attention to the effects of different drug policies in other countries—will

help people make informed decisions about whether or not particular
substances should be banned.
Module 5.3 Summary
5.3a Know . . . The key terminology related to different

categories of drugs and their effects on the nervous system and
behaviour.
Review Module 5.3
5.3b Understand . . . drug tolerance and dependence.
Tolerance is a physiological process in which repeated exposure to a drug
leads to a need for increasingly larger dosages to experience the intended

effect. Physical dependence occurs when the user takes a drug to avoid
withdrawal symptoms. Psychological dependence occurs when people
feel addicted to a drug despite the absence of physical withdrawal
symptoms; this form of dependence is often related to a person’s
emotional reasons for using a drug (e.g., dealing with stress or negative
emotions).
5.3c Apply . . . your knowledge to better understand your own

beliefs about drug use.
Apply Activity
One tool that might help you in this regard is the scale in Table 5.4 .
Table 5.4 What Are Your Beliefs about Drug Use?
Note: This scale measures permissive attitudes toward substance use and
abuse. Higher scores indicate more permissive attitudes.
Source: Reproduced with the permission of Alcohol Research Documentation, Inc. publisher of
the Journal of Studies on Alcohol (now the Journal of Studies on Alcohol and Drugs [www.jsad.com]).
5.3d Analyze . . . the difference between spiritual and
recreational drug use.
The difference, such as in the case of salvia divinorum and ayahuasca, is
dependent upon cultural factors, the setting in which the drug is used,
and the expectations of the user.
5.3e Analyze . . . the short- and long-term effects of drug use.
Review Table 5.3  for a summary of short-term effects of the major drug
categories. Long-term effects of drug use include tolerance, physical
dependence, and psychological dependence. Additionally, long-term use

of a number of drugs can change the structure of the brain, leading to
permanent deficits in a number of cognitive and physical abilities.

Chapter 6
Learning
6.1 Classical Conditioning: Learning by Association
Pavlov’s Dogs: Classical Conditioning of Salivation
Processes of Classical Conditioning
Applications of Classical Conditioning
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Conditioning and
Negative Political Advertising
Module 6.1 Summary
6.2 Operant Conditioning: Learning through Consequences
Basic Principles of Operant Conditioning
Processes of Operant Conditioning
Reinforcement Schedules and Operant Conditioning
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Reinforcement and
Superstition
Module 6.2 Summary
6.3 Cognitive and Observational Learning
Cognitive Perspectives on Learning
Observational Learning
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Linking Media Exposure
to Behaviour
Module 6.3 Summary

Module 6.1 Classical Conditioning:
Learning by Association
Brenda Carson/Fotolia
6.1a Know . . . the key terminology involved in classical conditioning.
6.1b Understand . . . how responses learned through classical
conditioning can be acquired and lost.
6.1c Understand . . . the role of biological and evolutionary factors in
classical conditioning.
6.1d Apply . . . the concepts and terms of classical conditioning to
new examples.
6.1e Analyze . . . the use of negative political advertising to condition

emotional responses to candidates.
What do you think of when you smell freshly baked cookies? Chances
are you associate the smell of cookies with your mother or grandmother,
and immediately experience a flood of memories associated with them.

These associations form naturally. It is quite unlikely that your
grandmother shoved a chocolate chip cookie under your nose and
screamed, “Remember me!” Instead, you linked these two stimuli
together in your mind; now, the smell of cookies is associated with the
idea of grandmother. This ability to associate stimuli provides

important evolutionary advantages: It means that you can use one
stimulus to predict the appearance of another, and that your body can
initiate its response to the second stimulus before it even appears.

Although the link between your grandmother and the smell of cookies is
not vital to your survival, similar associations such as the smell of a

food that made you sick and a feeling of revulsion just might be.
Interestingly, we are not the only species with this ability—even the
simplest animals (such as the earthworm) can learn by association,
suggesting that these associations are in fact critical for survival. In this
module, we will explore the different processes that influence how these
associations form.
Learning  is a process by which behaviour or knowledge changes as a result of
experience. To many people, the term learning signifies the activities that
students do—reading, listening, and taking tests in order to acquire new

information. This process, which is known as cognitive learning, is just one
type of learning, however. Another way that we learn is by associative

learning, which is the focus of this module.
Pavlov’s Dogs: Classical Conditioning
of Salivation
Research on associative learning has a long history in psychology, dating
back to Ivan Pavlov (1849–1936), a Russian physiologist and the 1904
Nobel laureate in medicine (for work on digestion, not his now-famous
conditioning research). Pavlov studied digestion, using dogs as a model
species for his experiments. As a part of his normal research procedure,

he collected saliva and other gastric secretions from the dogs when they
were presented with meat powder. Pavlov and his assistants noticed that
as they prepared dogs for procedures, even before any meat powder was
presented, the dogs would start salivating. This curious observation led
Pavlov to consider the possibility that digestive responses were more than
just simple reflexes elicited by food. If dogs salivate in anticipation of food,
then perhaps the salivary response can also be learned (Pavlov’s lab
assistants referred to them as “psychic secretions”). Pavlov began
conducting experiments in which he first presented a sound from a
metronome, a device that produces ticking sounds at set intervals, and
then presented meat powder to the dogs. After pairing the sound with the
food several times, Pavlov discovered that the metronome could elicit
salivation by itself (see Figure 6.1 ).
Figure 6.1 Associative Learning

Although much information may pass through the dog’s brain, in Pavlov’s
experiments on classical conditioning an association was made between
the clicking sound of a metronome and the food. (Pavlov used a
metronome as well as other devices for presenting sounds.)
Pavlov’s discovery began a long tradition of inquiry into what is now

called classical conditioning  or Pavlovian conditioning —a form of
associative learning in which an organism learns to associate a neutral stimulus

(e.g., a sound) with a biologically relevant stimulus (e.g., food), which results in
a change in the response to the previously neutral stimulus (e.g., salivation).

You can think about classical conditioning in mechanical terms—that is,
one event causes another. A stimulus is an external event or cue that

elicits a perceptual response; this occurs regardless of whether the event
is important or not. Some stimuli—such as food, water, pain, or sexual

contact—elicit responses instinctively (i.e., without any learning being
required). Each of these is an example of an unconditioned stimulus

(US) , a stimulus that elicits a reflexive response without learning. An
unconditioned response (UR) , on the other hand, is a reflexive,
unlearned reaction to an unconditioned stimulus. URs could include hunger,
drooling, expressions of pain, and sexual responses. Again, you do not
need to learn these; they occur fairly automatically. In Pavlov’s

experiment, meat powder elicited unconditioned salivation in his dogs
(see the top panel of Figure 6.2 ). The link between the US and the UR
is, by definition, unlearned. The dog’s parents did not have to teach it to
salivate when food appeared; this response occurs naturally.
Figure 6.2 Pavlov's Salivary Conditioning Experiment
Food elicits the unconditioned response of salivation. Before

conditioning, the sound of the metronome elicits no response by the dog.
During conditioning, the metronome’s clicking repeatedly precedes the
food. After conditioning, the sound of the metronome alone elicits
salivation. Interestingly, the term conditioning was actually a translation
error. Pavlov initially used the term conditional stimulus to describe
stimuli that were previously unimportant (or neutral) but that later
acquired greater significance due to their ability to signal the upcoming
occurrence (or, in some cases, nonoccurrence) of a biologically important
stimulus. These stimuli can be contrasted with stimuli such as food,
which are relevant to an animal’s survival and therefore trigger an almost
automatic—or “unconditional”—response such as salivating. These terms
were mistranslated into English as conditioned and unconditioned.
A defining characteristic of classical conditioning is that a neutral

stimulus comes to elicit a response. It does so because the neutral
stimulus is paired with, and therefore predicts, an unconditioned

stimulus. In Pavlov’s experiment, the sound of the metronome was
originally a neutral stimulus because it did not elicit a response, least of all
salivation (see Figure 6.2 ); however, over time, it began to influence the
dogs’ responses because of its association with food. In this case, the
metronome became a conditioned stimulus (CS) , a once-neutral
stimulus that later elicits a conditioned response because it has a history of being
paired with an unconditioned stimulus. A conditioned response (CR)  is
the learned response that occurs to the conditioned stimulus. In other words,
after being repeatedly paired with the US, the once-neutral metronome
clicking in Pavlov’s experiment became a conditioned stimulus (CS)
because it elicited the conditioned response of salivation. To establish
that conditioning has taken place, the metronome’s sound (CS) must
elicit salivation in the absence of food (US; see the bottom panel of Figure
6.2 ).
A common point of confusion is the difference between a conditioned
response and an unconditioned response—in Pavlov’s experiment, they

are both salivation. What distinguishes the UR from the CR is the
stimulus that elicits them. Salivation is a UR if it occurs in response to a
US (food). Salivation is a CR if it occurs in response to a CS (the clicking
of the metronome). A CS can have this effect only if it becomes associated

with a US. In other words, a UR is a naturally occurring response whereas
a CR must be learned.
Review Applying Classical Conditioning

Evolutionary Function of the CR
In Pavlov’s original experiments, the response to the signal (after
pairings) and to food were exactly the same: salivation. It is important to
note that the UR and CR do not have to be identical. In Pavlov’s study, it
made good evolutionary sense to salivate just prior to receiving food.
Saliva moisturizes the mouth and is a critical first step in the digestive
process. An animal with the ability to prepare in this way would process
food more efficiently. Therefore, the CR of salivation served a useful
function. Following this line of thinking, what do you think would happen
if the US was unpleasant, painful, and potentially life threatening? The
answer from an evolutionary perspective is pretty obvious: avoid death

and minimize physical damage.
Many animals have an instinct to “freeze” when they are scared. You see
this when deer are caught in headlights. They remain motionless—why?
The reason is that many of their predators, such as the wolf, have
perceptual systems that are quite sensitive to detecting movement; so
remaining still has an evolutionary survival advantage. (Highways
weren’t part of the evolution of deer.) However, if the wolf were to begin
to stalk the deer, the deer should immediately stop freezing and run. So,
there are two different defensive responses associated with fear: freezing
and fleeing.
Psychologists have spent decades trying to study these defensive
responses in the lab (although these experiments used rodents rather

than the potentially more dramatic combination of deer and wolves). For
instance, many conditioning experiments have studied the ability of rats
to associate a cue (e.g., a tone) with a painful electric shock to their feet.
Some of the URs to shock include flinching, jumping, and pain. However,
once the rat has learned to associate the tone with the shock, the rat’s
primary learned response to the tone is to “freeze” (the CR). The freezing
CR has served many species well for millions of years, so it is the natural
response to a fear-inducing signal in the laboratory. The lesson from this
experimental situation is that UR and the CR are often quite different
responses. The evolutionary function of the CR can be seen as a way for

the organism to interact adaptively with the US (Domjan & Krause,
2017). In the case of a food US, conditioned salivation prepares the
organism for eating, and if the US is a predator, the CR functions to
facilitate survival.
The UR and CR sometimes differ. CRs are often evolutionarily useful
behaviours such as the “freezing” response.
SCS Studio/Corbis/Getty Images
This example isn’t meant to confuse you! Rather, it is to show you that
classical conditioning has a dramatic effect on an organism’s survival. In
other words, conditioning has an evolutionary function, and so the CR

and the UR are not necessarily the same response.
Classical Conditioning and the Brain
Classical conditioning can occur in extremely simple organisms such as
Aplysia, a type of sea slug (Hawkins, 1984; Pinsker et al., 1970). Of
course, the number of possible conditioned responses is more limited in
the sea slug than in humans. But the fact that both of these species can be
classically conditioned suggests that at its heart, classical conditioning is a

simple biological process. The connections between specific groups of
neurons (or specific axon terminals and receptor sites on neurons)
become strengthened during each instance of classical conditioning
(Murphy & Glanzman, 1997).
According to the Hebb Rule (named after Canadian neurologist Donald
Hebb; see Module 7.1 ), when a weak connection between neurons is
stimulated at the same time as a strong connection, the weak connection
becomes strengthened. So, before conditioning, there may be a strong
connection between perceiving a puff of air and a blinking response and a

weak connection between a sound (e.g., a brief tone) and the blinking
response. But, if both networks are stimulated at the same time, the link
between the sound and the blinking response would be strengthened.
Over repeated conditioning trials, this connection would become strong
enough that the sound itself would trigger an eyeblink (see Figure 6.3 ).
Figure 6.3 Conditioning and Synapses

During conditioning, weak synapses fire at the same time as related
strong synapses. The simultaneous activity strengthens the connections in
the weaker synapse.
Source: Carlson, Neil R. (2013) Psychology of Behavior, 11th ed., Copyright © 2013, 29, 72.
Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., Upper Saddle
River, New Jersey.
When reading these examples, it’s quite easy to think of conditioning as

something unrelated to your life. Not many of us undergo eyeblink
conditioning. But these principles still apply to your everyday existence.

For instance, most of you have received a needle at the doctor’s office. In
this situation, the needle caused a response of pain. The doctor’s office
itself did not harm you in any way. But, over time, you may start to feel
anxious whenever you enter the doctor’s office because it has been
repeatedly paired with pain. What do you think the US, UR, CS, and CR
would be in this situation? In this case, the needle (US) causes pain (UR).
The office is the neutral stimulus (NS). Over time, the sights and sounds
of the doctor’s office could be the CS, because it would trigger the CR
(fear). Importantly, as you will read in the next section, the strength of
these networks—and thus of the conditioning—will vary depending upon

how often and how consistently the CS and the US appear together.
Processes of Classical Conditioning
Although classically conditioned responses typically involve reflexive

actions, there is still a great deal of flexibility in how long they will last
and how specific they will be. Conditioned responses may be very strong
and reliable, which is likely if the CS and the US have a long history of
being paired together, or the CR prepares the organism (people included)

to interact with a US that may either threaten or enhance survival. Also,
conditioned responding may diminish over time, or it may occur with
new stimuli with which the response has never been paired. We now turn
to some processes that account for the flexibility of classically conditioned
responses.
Acquisition, Extinction, and Spontaneous
Recovery
Learning involves a change in behaviour due to experience, which can
include acquiring a new response. Acquisition  is the initial phase of
learning in which a response is established; thus, in classical conditioning,

acquisition is the phase in which a neutral stimulus is repeatedly paired
with the US. In Pavlov’s experiment, the conditioned salivary response
was acquired with numerous metronome–food pairings (see Figure 6.4 ).
A critical part of acquisition is the predictability with which the CS and
the US occur together. In Pavlov’s experiment, conditioning either would

not occur or would be very weak if food was delivered only sometimes
(i.e., inconsistently) when the metronome sound occurred.
Figure 6.4 Acquisition, Extinction, and Spontaneous Recovery

Acquisition of a conditioned response occurs over repeated pairings of the
CS and the US. If the US no longer occurs, conditioned responding
diminishes—a process called extinction. Often, following a time interval in
which the CS does not occur, conditioned responding rebounds when the
CS is presented again—a phenomenon called spontaneous recovery.
Of course, even if a conditioned response is fully acquired, there is no

guarantee it will persist forever. Extinction  is the reduction of a
conditioned response when a conditioned stimulus and unconditioned stimulus
no longer occur together. For the dogs in Pavlov’s experiment, if the sound
of the metronome clicking is presented repeatedly and no food follows,
then salivation should occur less and less, until eventually it may not
occur at all (Figure 6.4 ). This trend probably makes sense from a
biological perspective: If the sound of the metronome is no longer a

reliable predictor of food, then salivation in response to this particular
stimulus becomes unnecessary. At the neural level, the rate of firing in
brain areas related to the learned association decreases over the course of
extinction (Robleto et al., 2004). However, even after extinction occurs, a

previously established conditioned response can return.
A number of studies have shown that classically conditioned behaviours
that had disappeared due to extinction could quickly reappear if the CS

was paired with the US again. This tendency suggests that the networks
of brain areas related to conditioning were preserved, or altered, in some
form (Schreurs, 1993; Schreurs et al., 1998). Additionally, some animals

(including humans) show spontaneous recovery , or the reoccurrence of a
previously extinguished conditioned response, typically after some time has

passed since extinction. Pavlov and his assistants noticed that salivation
would reappear when the dogs were later returned to the experimental
testing room where acquisition and extinction trials had been conducted.
The dogs would also salivate again in response to a metronome clicking,

albeit less so than at the end of acquisition (Figure 6.4 ). Why would
salivation spontaneously return after the response had supposedly

extinguished? One possibility is that extinction also involves learning
something new (Bouton, 1994). In this case, Pavlov’s dogs would be
learning that the clicking of a metronome indicates that food will not
appear. It is possible that spontaneous recovery is a case of the animal not
being able to retrieve the memory of extinction and thus reverting back to
the original memory, the classically conditioned response (Bouton, 2002;
Brooks et al., 1999).
Extinction and spontaneous recovery are evidence that classically

conditioned responses can change once they are acquired. Further
evidence of flexibility of conditioned responding can be seen in some

other processes of classical conditioning, including generalization and
discrimination.
Stimulus Generalization and Discrimination
Stimulus generalization  is a process in which a response that originally
occurred for a specific stimulus also occurs for different, though similar, stimuli.
In Pavlov’s experiment, dogs salivated not just to the original sound (CS),
but also to very similar sounds (see Figure 6.5 ). At the cellular level,
generalization may be explained, at least in part, by the Hebb rule

discussed above. When we perceive a stimulus, it activates not only our
brain’s representation of that item, but also our representations of related
items. Some of these additional representations (e.g., a sound that has a
slightly higher or lower pitch than the conditioned stimulus) may become
activated at the same time as the synapses involved in conditioned

responses. If this did occur, according to the Hebb rule, the additional
synapse would become strengthened and would therefore be more likely
to fire along with the other cells in the future.
Figure 6.5 Stimulus Generalization and Discrimination

A conditioned response may generalize to other similar stimuli. In this
case, salivation occurs not just for the 1200-Hz tone used during
conditioning, but for other tones as well. Discrimination learning has
occurred when responding is elicited by the original training stimulus, but
much less so, if at all, for other stimuli.
Generalization allows for flexibility in learned behaviours, although it is
certainly possible for behaviour to be too flexible. Salivating in response

to any sound would be wasteful because not every sound correctly
predicts food. Thus Pavlov’s dogs also showed discrimination , which

occurs when an organism learns to respond to one original conditioned stimulus
but not to new stimuli that may be similar to the original stimulus. In salivary
conditioning, the CS might be a 1200-hertz (Hz) tone, which is the only
sound that is paired with food. The experimenter might produce tones of
1100 or 1300 Hz as well, but not pair these with food. This point is
critical: If stimuli that are similar to the CS are presented without a US,
then it becomes less likely that these stimuli will lead to stimulus
generalization. Instead, these other tones would have their own memory
representation in the brain—in which they did not receive food. So,
stimulus discrimination would occur if salivation was triggered by the
target 1200-Hz tone, but was not triggered (or was triggered less) in
response to the other tones (Figure 6.5 ).
Applications of Classical Conditioning
Now that you are familiar with the basic processes of classical
conditioning, we can begin to explore its many applications. Classical
conditioning is a common phenomenon that applies to many different
situations, including emotional learning, aversions to certain foods,
advertising, and responses to drugs.

Conditioned Emotional Responses
Psychologists dating back to John Watson in the 1920s recognized that
our emotional responses could be influenced by classical conditioning
(Paul & Blumenthal, 1989; Watson & Rayner, 1920). These conditioned
emotional responses  consist of emotional and physiological responses that
develop to a specific object or situation. In one of the most diabolical studies

in the history of psychology, Watson and Rayner conditioned an 11-
month-old child known as Albert B. (also referred to as “Little Albert”) to
fear white rats. When they first presented Albert with a white rat, he
showed no fear, and even reached out for the animal. Later, while Albert
was again in the vicinity of the rat, they startled him by striking a steel bar
with a hammer. Watson and Rayner reported that Albert quickly
associated the rat with the startling sound; the child soon showed a
conditioned emotional response to the rat. In this situation, the US would
be the loud noise. The UR would be the feeling of fear elicited by the loud
noise. With repeated pairings of the loud noise and the white rat, the
white rat—which preceded the onset of the loud noise—would start to
trigger fear. In this case, the white rat became the CS and the fear it
elicited became the CR. Little Albert not only developed a fear of rats; the
emotional conditioning generalized to other white furry objects, including
a rabbit and a Santa Claus mask.
It should be pointed out that ethical standards in modern-day
psychological research would not allow this type of experiment to take
place. To make matters worse, it appears that Watson and Rayner did not
keep in touch with Little Albert to see if there were any lasting effects
from the study. In fact, the fate of Little Albert has been shrouded in
mystery for almost a century. One group of researchers examined
hospital records and reported that Little Albert passed away as a result of
a brain illness (i.e., for reasons unrelated to this study) at the age of five
(Beck et al., 2009; Fridlund et al., 2012). However, researchers at Grant
MacEwan University in Edmonton found evidence suggesting that Little
Albert actually lived a long and relatively happy life, although he was not
comfortable around furry animals such as dogs (Digdon et al., 2014).
More detective work is necessary to address these competing claims.

Ironically, in 1928, Watson published a book entitled Psychological Care of
Infant and Child.
The Watson and Rayner procedure may seem artificial because it took
place in a laboratory, but here is a more naturalistic example. Consider a
boy who sees his neighbour’s cat. Not having a cat of his own, the child is
very eager to pet the animal—perhaps a little too eager, because the cat
reacts defensively and scratches his hand. The cat may become a CS for
the boy, which elicits a fear response. Further, if generalization occurs,

the boy might become afraid of all cats. Conditioned emotional responses
like these offer a possible explanation for many phobias, which are
intense, irrational fears of specific objects or situations (discussed in detail
in Module 15.2 ).
During the past two decades, researchers have made great strides in
identifying the brain regions responsible for such conditioned emotional
responses. When an organism learns a fear-related association such as a

tone predicting the onset of a startling noise, activity occurs in the
amygdala, a brain area related to fear (Fanselow & Gale, 2003; Maren,
2001). If an organism learns to fear a particular location, such as learning

that a certain cage is associated with an electrical shock, then context-
related activity in the hippocampus will interact with fear-related activity

in the amygdala to produce contextual fear conditioning (Phillips &
LeDoux, 1992). Importantly, the neural connections related to
conditioned fear remain intact, even after extinction has occurred.

Instead, other neurons suppress the activity of the brain areas related to
the fear responses (Marek et al., 2013). If the CS is paired with the US
again, this suppression will be removed and the fear-conditioned
response will quickly reappear.
Watson and Rayner generalized Albert’s fear of white rats to other furry,
white objects. Shown here, Watson tests Albert’s reaction to a Santa
Claus mask.
Source: Archives of the History of American Psychology, The Center for the History of Psychology
—The University of Akron.
Neuroimaging has been used to study the brain’s responses to fear
conditioning in both clinical populations and in healthy control

participants. For example, scientists have conducted some fascinating
experiments on people diagnosed with psychopathy (the diagnosis of
“psychopathy” is very similar to antisocial personality disorder; see

Module 15.2 ). People with this disorder are notorious for disregarding
the feelings of others. In one study, a sample of people diagnosed with
psychopathy looked at brief presentations of human faces (neutral

stimuli) followed by a painful stimulus (the US). The painful stimulus
would obviously elicit a pain response (the UR). What should have
happened is that over repeated pairings, participants would acquire a
negative emotional reaction (the CR) to the faces (which are now the CS);
but this particular sample did not react this way. Instead, these
individuals showed very little physiological arousal, their emotional brain
centres remained quiet, and overall they did not seem to mind looking at
pictures of faces that had been paired with pain (see Figure 6.6 ;
Birbaumer et al., 2005). In contrast, people who showed no signs of

psychopathy did not enjoy this experience. In fact, following several
pairings between CS and US, the control group showed increased
physiological arousal and activity of the emotion centres of the brain, and
understandably reported disliking the experience of the experiment.
Figure 6.6 Fear Conditioning and the Brain

During fear conditioning, a neutral stimulus (NS) such as a tone or a
picture of a human face is briefly presented, followed by an
unconditioned stimulus (US), such as a mild electric shock. The result is a
conditioned fear response to the CS. A procedure like this has been used
to compare fear responses in people diagnosed with psychopathy with
control participants. The brain images show that those with psychopathy
(top right image) showed very little response in their emotional brain
circuitry when presented with the CS. In contrast, control participants
showed strong activation in their emotional brain centres (top left image)
(Birbaumer et al., 2005).
Source: Courtesy of Dr. Herta Flor.

Evolutionary Role for Fear Conditioning
A healthy fear response is important for survival, but not all situations or
objects are equally dangerous. Snakes and heights probably elicit more
fear and caution than butterflies or flowers. In fact, fearing snakes is very
common, which makes it tempting to conclude that we have an instinct to
fear them. In reality, young primates (e.g., both human children and
young monkeys) tend to be quite curious about, or at least indifferent to,
snakes, so this fear is most likely the product of learning rather than
instinct.
Psychologists have conducted some ingenious experiments to address

how learning is involved in fear of snakes. For instance, photographs of
snakes (the CS) were paired with a mild electric shock (the US). One
unconditioned response that a shock elicits is increased palm sweat—
known as the skin conductance response. This reaction, part of the fight-
or-flight response generated by the autonomic nervous system (Module

3.3 ), occurs when our bodies are aroused by a threatening or
uncomfortable stimulus. Following several pairings between snake photos
and shock in an experimental setting, the snake photos alone (the CS)
elicited a strong increase in skin conductance response (the CR). For
comparison, participants were also shown non-threatening pictures of
flowers, paired with the shock. Much less intense conditioned responding
developed in response to the pictures of flowers, even though the pictures
had been paired with the shock just as many times as the snake pictures
had been paired with the shock (Figure 6.7 ; Öhman & Mineka, 2001).
Thus, it appears we are predisposed to acquire a fear of snakes, but not of
flowers.
Figure 6.7 Biologically Prepared Fear
Physiological measures of fear are highest in response to photos of snakes

after the photos are paired with an electric shock—even higher than the
responses to photos of guns. Flowers—something that humans generally
do not need to fear in nature—are least effective when it comes to
conditioning fear responses.
This finding may not be too surprising, but what about other potentially
dangerous objects such as guns? In many regions of the world, guns are
far more often associated with death or injury than snakes and certainly
flowers. When the researchers paired pictures of guns (the CS) with the
shock (US), they found that conditioned arousal to guns among
participants was less than that to snake photos, and comparable to that of
harmless flowers. In addition, the conditioned arousal to snake photos
proved longer lasting and slower to extinguish than the conditioned

responding to pictures of guns or flowers (Öhman & Mineka, 2001).
However, before completely accepting this finding it should be noted that

work on the rapid learning of snake fear has not always been replicated in
different laboratories, and snakes are simply perceived more rapidly in

the visual system than other threats, and therefore capture our attention
more quickly than stimuli such as guns or flowers (Burghardt & Bowers,
2017; Isbell, 2006). These caveats aside, given that guns and snakes both
have the potential to be dangerous, why is it so much easier to learn a
fear of snakes than a fear of guns? One possibility is that over time,
humans have evolved a strong predisposition to detect and fear an animal
that has a long history of causing severe injury or death (Cook et al.,
1986; Öhman & Mineka, 2001). The survival advantage has gone to those
who quickly avoided animals such as snakes. The same is not true for
flowers (which do not attack humans) or guns (which are relatively new
in our species’ history). This evolutionary explanation is known as

preparedness , the biological predisposition to rapidly learn a response to a
particular class of stimuli (Seligman, 1971).
Conditioned Taste Aversions
Another example of an evolutionarily useful conditioned fear response
comes from food aversions. Chances are there is a food that you cannot
stand to even look at because it once made you ill. This new aversion isn’t
due to chance; rather, your brain and body have linked the taste, sight,
and smell of that food to the feeling of nausea. In this situation, the taste
(and often the sight and smell) of the food or fluid serves as the CS. The
US is whatever substance in the food or environment happened to make
you sick (e.g., some sort of bacteria); this, in turn, leads to the actual
sickness (the UR). Aversion is not simply a case of “feeling gross.”
Instead, it involves both a feeling (and in some species, a facial

expression) of disgust and a withdrawal or avoidance response. When the
CS and US are linked, the taste of the food or fluid soon produces
aversion responses (the CR), even in the absence of physical illness (see
Figure 6.8 ). This acquired dislike or disgust for a food or drink because it was
paired with illness is known as conditioned taste aversion  (Garcia et al.,

1966).
Figure 6.8 Conditioned Taste Aversion

Conditioned taste aversions may develop in a variety of ways, such as
through illness associated with food poisoning, the flu, medical
procedures, or excessive intoxication. Importantly, these conditioned
aversions only occur for the flavour of a particular food rather than to
other stimuli that may have been present when you became ill. For
example, if you were listening to a particular song while you got sick from
eating tainted spinach or a two-week-old tuna sandwich, your aversion
would develop to the taste of spinach, but not to the song that was
playing. Thus, humans (and many other animals) are biologically
prepared to associate food, but not sound, with illness (Garcia et al.,
1966).
The phenomenon of conditioned taste aversions presents some puzzling
observations. For instance, the onset of symptoms from food poisoning

may not occur until several hours have passed after the tainted food or
beverage was consumed. As a consequence, the interval between tasting

the food (CS) and feeling sick (UR) may be a matter of hours, whereas
most conditioning happens only if the CS, US, and the UR occur very
closely to each other in time. Another peculiarity is that taste aversions
are learned very quickly—a single CS–US pairing leading to illness is
typically sufficient. These special characteristics of taste aversions are

extremely important for survival. The flexibility offered by a long window
of time separating food (CS) and the illness (UR), as well as the
requirement for only a single exposure, raises the chances of acquiring an
important aversion to the offending substance.
One potential explanation for these characteristics involves the food
stimuli themselves. Usually, a conditioned taste aversion develops to

something we have ingested that has an unfamiliar flavour. Such flavours
stick out when they are experienced for the first time and are therefore
much easier to remember, even after considerable time has passed. In
contrast, if you have eaten the same ham and Swiss cheese sandwich at
lunch for years, and you become ill one afternoon after eating it, you will
be less prone to develop a conditioned taste aversion. This scenario can

be explained by latent inhibition , which occurs when frequent experience
with a stimulus before it is paired with a US makes it less likely that

conditioning will occur after a single episode of illness (Lubow & Moore,
1959).
Conditioned taste aversions are a naturally occurring experience.
However, conditioned emotional responses are also being created by

advertisers to influence our responses. As you will read in the next
section, food is not the only stimulus that can make you feel sick.
Conditioning and Negative Political

Advertising
Some politicians have charisma; you want to like them and
believe what they say. Barack Obama (U.S. president from 2009
to 2017) was treated like a rock star when he travelled
internationally (and still is). Justin Trudeau (Canadian prime
minister from 2016) has also received a lot of positive attention,
particularly at the beginning of his time as prime minister. But
not everyone has natural charisma. In these cases, politicians
need to use advertising and carefully constructed “photo ops” to

create emotional responses that can influence voting behaviours.
In an ideal world, these advertisements would focus on issues
and would highlight the candidates’ positive qualities.
Unfortunately, the past few decades have seen a dramatic
upsurge in a different form of advertising: negative attack ads.
The highly contentious 2016 U.S. presidential campaign between
Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump witnessed more negative
attack ads than recorded during election cycles spanning 1952 to

2001. Sixty-six percent of pro-Clinton ads and 75% of pro-Trump
ads were negative or attack oriented. Within those totals, 61% of
pro-Clinton ads and 47% of pro-Trump ads were character
attacks of the opponent (Tedesco & Dunn, 2018). These numbers
do not include the content of free media such as Twitter, which

has become a particularly popular venue for political bullying by
Trump.
This type of advertisement relies on the principles of classical
conditioning and, in the process, treats you, the voter, like one of
Pavlov’s dogs.
What do we know about classical

conditioning in negative political advertising?
Negative political advertisements routinely include unflattering
images. In the next federal or provincial election, pay attention to

the commercials that are sponsored by each party and you will
notice a few tricks. First, many images of opponents will be black
and white and of poor quality (grainy). This trick is designed to
make viewers feel mildly frustrated when viewing the unclear
photographs. Second, the images of the attacked politicians will
include them expressing a negative emotion. In some, they will
be yelling (angry faces trigger a physiological response in
people). Others may show facial expressions that appear smug or
that suggest the candidate feels contempt toward the person

they’re looking at (which, in this case, would appear to be you).
The assumption underlying these attack ads is that if you pair a

party leader with imagery that generates unpleasant emotions,
then viewers will associate that leader with negative feelings and
be less likely to vote for that party.
In this case, the CS would be the attacked politician. The US

would be the negative imagery. The UR would be the negative
emotional response to the imagery (or unflattering photograph).

Eventually, the individuals who constructed the ad hope that
simply seeing the attacked person will produce a negative

emotional response (CR) along with the thought, “I will not vote
for him or her.” The question is, “Does this work?”

How can science help explain the role of
classical conditioning in negative political
advertising?
An attempt to use negative emotions to alter people’s opinions of
political candidates is similar to a psychology research technique
known as evaluative conditioning. In an evaluative conditioning
study, experimenters pair a stimulus (e.g., a shape) with either

positive or negative stimuli (e.g., an angry face; Murphy &
Zajonc, 1993). The repeated association of a stimulus with an

emotion leads participants to develop a positive or negative
feeling toward that stimulus (depending on the emotional

pairing; see Figure 6.9 ). This is precisely what political
strategists are attempting to do when they show unpleasant

pictures of an opponent and pair it with angry narrators and
emotional labels.
Figure 6.9 Evaluative Conditioning
In evaluative conditioning, researchers pair an emotional image

(e.g., an emotional face) with a previously neutral target image
such as a Japanese symbol. The association that (sometimes)
forms between the two images can influence participants’ later
judgments of the target image, leading them to like (if paired with
a happy face) or dislike (if paired with angry face) them more
than if no conditioning had occurred. Political advertising
sometimes uses similar, if less subtle, techniques.
REUTERS/Alamy Stock Photo
In the laboratory, evaluative conditioning works. This

phenomenon has been found with visual, auditory, olfactory
(smell), taste, and tactile (touch) stimuli. It has been used to alter
feelings toward objects ranging from snack foods (Lebens et al.,
2011), to consumer brands (Walther & Grigoriadis, 2004), to
novel shapes (Olson & Fazio, 2001). A number of studies have
specifically attempted to use conditioning to create negative

attitudes toward products or behaviours (Moore et al., 1982;
Zanna et al., 1970), a goal similar to the attack ads you see each
election. For instance, Stuart and colleagues (1990) found that
associating a new brand of toothpaste with negative pictures
decreased evaluations of that product. In all of these cases, the

advertisers and sponsoring politicians are assuming that the
viewer will associate the negative emotions (UR) with the ad’s
target (CS) and that this will make the viewer more likely to
select an alternative (i.e., the candidate sponsoring the attack ad).

In the case of politics, this assumption makes sense—attack ads
tend to be effective and are recalled better than other types of
political information (Fernandes, 2013).

A major question that arises from this research is whether
producing a negative opinion of one option (be it a brand of
toothpaste or a political candidate) automatically means that you

also produce a positive opinion of the other option. Oftentimes,
we can’t tell if the results are due to liking one option or disliking
the other option. This question isn’t really an issue for U.S.-based
studies, as there are only two parties in that country (for now).
However, with five political parties running in the next federal
election in Canada, there is a danger that attack ads might
produce negative opinions of the target, but still not boost
opinions of the party running the ads.
Recent research has examined who is actually influenced by

these attack ads. In one U.S.-based study (none have been
conducted in Canada), researchers found that negative ads had

no effect on donations to political parties. They did, however,
increase voter turnout among partisans, people who already
agreed with the views expressed in the ads (Barton et al., 2016).
In other words, although the primary goal of attack ads might be

to make undecided voters associate negative emotions with the
target of the ads, the actual effect of the ads is to motivate people
who already had negative emotions to act on those emotions
(i.e., to vote).

Dozens of studies indicate that people are prone to a third-person
effect whereby they assume that other people are more affected
by advertising and mass media messages than they themselves
are (Cheng & Riffe, 2008; Perloff, 2002). Thus, there appears to
be a disconnect between the power of negative advertising and
people’s awareness of its effects. It is important to realize that

conditioning often occurs without our conscious awareness. Our
brains are designed to make associations. So, by becoming aware
of how marketing companies and politicians are using classical
conditioning to influence how you vote, you can try to reduce the
effect of their manipulation. That way, when you cast your vote,
it will hopefully be because of issues you care about and not
because of conditioned emotional responses.
Evaluative conditioning occurs in other realms of social

behaviour as well. For example, people develop stronger negative
conditioned responses to members of other racial groups than to
their own group. Researchers presented white and Black people
with pictures of individuals of these two racial groups paired with

a mild electric shock (enough to be experienced as unpleasant,
but not painful). Following pairing pictures of both groups with
shock, the participants showed higher physiological arousal when
viewing pictures of their racial “outgroup” in comparison to

pictures of their “in group” (Olsson et al., 2005). Negative
evaluations of others can be difficult to overcome. In a laboratory
study, participants were conditioned to classify people presented
in photos as either cooperators or cheaters. These learned
associations were hard to overcome. Researchers asked

participants to disregard the negative associations formed toward
some of the cheaters (e.g., “Sorry, my mistake, those people are
actually trustworthy”). Despite attempts to extinguish the
negative associations, participants still rated these people as less

trustworthy than people who were regarded as cooperators all
along (Suzuki et al., 2013).
Drug Tolerance and Conditioning
In addition to influencing overt behaviours such as salivating and
emotional behaviours such as phobias, classical conditioning can
influence how the body regulates its own responses to different stimuli.
For example, classical conditioning can help explain some drug-related
phenomena, such as cravings and tolerance. Cues that accompany drug

use can become conditioned stimuli that elicit cravings (Sinha, 2009). For
example, a cigarette lighter, the smell of tobacco smoke, or the presence
of another smoker can elicit cravings in people who smoke.
Conditioning can also influence drug tolerance, or a decreased reaction

that occurs with repeated use of the drug (Siegel et al., 2000). When a
person takes a drug, his or her body attempts to metabolize that
substance. Over time, the setting and paraphernalia associated with the
drug-taking begin to serve as cues (a CS) that a drug (US) will soon be
processed by the body (UR). As a result of this association, the

physiological processes involved with metabolizing the drug will begin
with the appearance of the CS rather than when the drug is actually
consumed. In other words, because of conditioning, the body is already
braced for the drug before the drug has been snorted, smoked, or
injected. This response means that, over time, more of the drug will be
needed to override these preparatory responses so that the desired effect
can be obtained; this change is referred to as conditioned drug tolerance.

This phenomenon can have fatal consequences for drug abusers. Shepard
Siegel (1984; 2016), a psychologist at McMaster University, conducted
interviews with patients who were hospitalized for overdosing on heroin.
Over the course of his interviews, a pattern among the patients emerged.
Several individuals reported that they were in situations unlike those that
typically preceded their heroin injections—for example, in a different
environment or even using an injection site (i.e., part of the body) that
differed from the usual ritual. As a result of these differences, there were
fewer CSs present to trigger the CR, the body’s metabolizing activity that
braced (or prepared) the drug taker’s body for the arrival of the drug.
Without this conditioned preparatory response, delivery of even a normal
dose of the drug can be lethal. This finding has been confirmed in animal
studies: Siegel and his associates (1982) found that conditioned drug
tolerance and overdosing can also occur with rats. When rats received
heroin in an environment different from where they experienced the drug
previously, mortality rates were double that of control rats that received
the same dose of heroin in their normal surroundings (64% versus 32%).
The examples discussed in this module are only a few of the applications
of classical conditioning (Domjan et al., 2004). But the fact that
behaviours ranging from phobias, to voting preferences, to drug tolerance

can be explained by classical conditioning shows us that Pavlov’s
observations of his salivating dogs were really just a drop in the bucket.
Module 6.1 Summary
6.1a Know . . . the key terminology involved in classical

conditioning.
Review Module 6.1
6.1b Understand . . . how responses learned through classical

conditioning can be acquired and lost.
Acquisition of a conditioned response occurs with repeated pairings of
the CS and the US. Once a response is acquired, it can be extinguished if

the CS and the US no longer occur together. During extinction, the CR
diminishes, although it may reappear under some circumstances. For
example, if enough time passes following extinction, the CR may
spontaneously recover when the organism encounters the CS again.
6.1c Understand . . . the role of biological and evolutionary

factors in classical conditioning.
Conditioned responses such as salivating to food and freezing in response
to threats prepare organisms to interact with the unconditioned stimulus,

which is biologically relevant and may either enhance or jeopardize
survival. Furthermore, not all stimuli have the same potential to become a
strong CS. Responses to biologically relevant stimuli, such as snakes, can
be more easily conditioned than responses to stimuli such as flowers or
guns, for example. Similarly, avoidance of potentially harmful foods is
critical to survival, so organisms can develop a conditioned taste aversion
quickly (in a single trial) and even when ingestion and illness are
separated by a relatively long time interval.
6.1d Apply . . . the concepts and terms of classical conditioning

to new examples.
Apply Activity
Read the three scenarios that follow and identify the conditioned stimulus
(CS), the unconditioned stimulus (US), the conditioned response (CR),
and the unconditioned response (UR) in each case. (Hint: When you
apply the terms CS, US, CR, and UR, a good strategy is to identify
whether something is a stimulus (something that elicits) or a response (a

behaviour). Next, identify whether the stimulus automatically elicits a
response (the US) or does so only after being paired with a US (a CS).
Finally, identify whether the response occurs in response to the US alone
(the UR) or the CS alone (the CR).)
1. Cameron and Tia went to the prom together. During their last
slow dance, the DJ played the theme song for the event. During
the song, the couple kissed. Now, several years later, whenever
Cameron and Tia hear the song, they feel a rush of excitement.
2. Harry has visited his eye doctor several times due to problems
with his vision. One test involves blowing a puff of air into his
eye. After repeated visits to the eye doctor, Harry starts blinking
as soon as the doctor begins to prepare the instrument.
3. Sarah went to a new restaurant and experienced the most

delicious meal she had ever tasted. The restaurant began
advertising on the radio, and now every time an ad comes on,

Sarah finds herself craving the meal she enjoyed so much.
6.1e Analyze . . . the use of negative political advertising to

condition emotional responses to candidates.
Negative political advertising often uses a form of conditioning known as
evaluative conditioning. Negative images, sounds, and/or statements are

paired with images of the targeted candidate. The goal is to have viewers
link negative emotions with the target. Research has found that this
technique can be successful. But if the images used are deemed cruel or
inappropriate, it is possible that viewers will feel negative emotions

toward the sponsor of the ad instead.
Module 6.2 Operant Conditioning:
Learning through Consequences
Mike Mergen/Bloomberg via Getty Images
6.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with operant
conditioning.
6.2b Understand . . . the role that consequences play in increasing or
decreasing behaviour.
6.2c Understand . . . how schedules of reinforcement affect behaviour.
6.2d Apply . . . your knowledge of operant conditioning to examples.
6.2e Analyze . . . the effectiveness of punishment on changing
behaviour.
Gambling is a multibillion-dollar industry in Canada. Given the huge
sum that Canadians spend on gambling, it is clear that some
individuals are spending more than they should on this habit.
Psychologists and government officials have invested a considerable

amount of time into the development of prevention and treatment
programs for gambling addictions. Although these programs have led to
addiction rates levelling off in recent years, compulsive gambling is still
a problem in Canada. So, what compels people to keep pulling the lever
on a slot machine or pressing buttons on a VLT (video lottery terminal)

screen when logic would tell them to stop and go home?
Although the answer to this question is complicated (Hodgins et al.,

2011), it is clear that reinforcement plays a role in these behaviours. As
you will read in this module, rewarding a behaviour—which happens

when someone wins money after pressing the button on a VLT—makes
that behaviour more likely to occur again in the future. The effect is
larger when the reward doesn’t happen every time and isn’t predictable
—qualities that perfectly describe gambling. The machines aren’t the
only ones having their buttons pushed.

Very few of our behaviours are random. Instead, people tend to repeat
actions that previously led to positive or rewarding outcomes. If you go to
a new restaurant and like it, you will eat there again. Conversely, if a
behaviour previously led to a negative outcome, people are less likely to
perform that action again. If you go to a new restaurant and don’t enjoy
the meal, then you will likely not eat there again. This type of stimulus-
response learning is known as operant conditioning , a type of learning in

which behaviour is influenced by consequences. The term operant is used
because the individual operates on the environment before consequences
can occur. In contrast to classical conditioning, which typically affects

reflexive responses, operant conditioning involves voluntary actions such
as speaking or listening, starting and stopping an activity, and moving

toward or away from something. Whether and when we engage in these
types of behaviours depend on how our unique collection of previous

experiences has influenced what we do and do not find rewarding.
Initially, the difference between classical and operant conditioning may
seem unclear. One useful way of telling the difference is that in classical
conditioning a response is not required for a reward (or unconditioned
stimulus) to be presented; to return to Pavlov’s dogs, meat powder was
presented regardless of whether salivation occurred. In classical

conditioning, learning has taken place if a conditioned response develops
following pairings of the conditioned stimulus and the unconditioned

stimulus. In other words, the dogs learned the association between the
sound of a metronome and food (as shown by their salivation), but they
didn’t have to actually do anything. In operant conditioning, a response
and a consequence are required for learning to take place. Without a

response of some kind, there can be no consequence. See Table 6.1  for
a summary of differences between operant and classical conditioning.
Table 6.1 Major Differences between Classical and Operant Conditioning

Basic Principles of Operant
Conditioning
The concept of contingency is important to understanding operant
conditioning; it simply means that a consequence depends upon an
action. Earning good grades is generally contingent upon studying
effectively. Excelling at athletics is contingent upon training and practice.
The consequences of a particular behaviour can be either reinforcing or

punishing (see Figure 6.10 ).
Figure 6.10 Reinforcement and Punishment

The key distinction between reinforcement and punishment is that
reinforcers, no matter what they are, increase behaviour. Punishment
involves a decrease in behaviour, regardless of what the specific punisher
may be. Thus both reinforcement and punishment are defined based on
their effects on behaviour.
Reinforcement and Punishment
Reinforcement  is a process in which an event or reward that follows a
response increases the likelihood of that response occurring again. We can trace
the scientific study of reinforcement’s effects on behaviour back to
Edward Thorndike, who conducted experiments in which he measured
the time it took cats to learn how to escape from puzzle boxes (see Figure
6.11 ). Thorndike (1905) observed that over repeated trials, cats were
able to escape more rapidly because they learned which responses
worked (such as pressing a pedal on the floor of the box). From his
experiments, Thorndike proposed the law of effect —the idea that
responses followed by satisfaction will occur again in the same situation,

whereas those that are not followed by satisfaction become less likely. In this
definition, “satisfaction” implies either that the animal’s desired goal was
achieved (e.g., escaping the puzzle box) or it received some form of
reward for the behaviour (e.g., food).
Figure 6.11 Thorndike’s Puzzle Box and the Law of Effect

(a) Thorndike conducted experiments in which cats learned an operant
response that was reinforced with escape from the box and access to a
food reward. (b) Over repeated trials, the cats took progressively less time
to escape, as shown in this learning curve.
Within a few decades of the publication of Thorndike’s work, the famous

behaviourist B. F. Skinner began conducting his own studies on the
systematic relationship between reinforcement and behaviour. Although

operant conditioning can explain many human behaviours, most of its
basic principles stem from laboratory studies conducted on nonhuman

species such as pigeons or rats, which were placed in an apparatus such
as the one pictured in Figure 6.12 . These operant chambers, sometimes

referred to as Skinner boxes, include a lever or key that the subject can
manipulate. Pushing the lever may result in the delivery of a reinforcer
such as food. In operant conditioning terms, a reinforcer  is a stimulus

that is contingent upon a response and that increases the probability of that
response occurring again. (So, a reinforcer would be a stimulus like food,

whereas reinforcement would be the changes in the frequency of a
behaviour like lever pressing that occur as a result of the food reward.)
Researchers use machinery such as operant chambers to help them
control and quantify learning. Specifically, researchers record an animal’s
rate of responding over time (a measure of learning), and typically set a

criterion for the number of responses that must be made before a
reinforcer becomes available. As you will read later in this module,

animals and humans are quite sensitive to how many responses they
must make, or how long they must wait, in order to receive a reward.
Figure 6.12 An Operant Chamber
The operant chamber is a standard laboratory apparatus for studying

operant conditioning. The rat can press the lever to receive a reinforcer
such as food or water. The lights can be used to indicate when lever
pressing will be rewarded. The recording device measures cumulative
responses (lever presses) over time.
Understanding, 2nd ed., © 2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson
The discussion thus far has focused on how reinforcement can lead to
increased responding; but decreased responding is also a possible
outcome of an encounter with a stimulus. Punishment  is a process that

decreases the future probability of a response. Thus, a punisher  is a stimulus
that is contingent upon a response, and that results in a decrease in behaviour.
Like reinforcers, punishers are defined not based on the stimuli
themselves, but rather on their effects on behaviour. In all cases, a

punisher—be it yelling, losing money, or going to jail—will make it less
likely that a particular response will occur again.
Positive and Negative Reinforcement and
Punishment
Thus far, we have differentiated between reinforcement (when a response
increases the likelihood that a behaviour will occur again) and
punishment (when a response decreases the likelihood that a behaviour

will occur again). In both of these cases, it is natural to think of the
responses as something that is added to the situation. For instance, a
behaviour could be reinforced by giving the animal food. Or, it could be
punished by shocking the animal. But both reinforcement and
punishment can be accomplished by removing a stimulus as well. In the

descriptions that follow, try to remember the following four terms as they
are used in operant conditioning:
Reinforcement: this increases the chances of a behaviour occurring
again
Punishment: this decreases the chances of a behaviour occurring again
Positive: this means that a stimulus is added to a situation; positive
can refer to reinforcement or punishment
Negative: this means that a stimulus is removed from a situation;
negative can refer to reinforcement or punishment
These terms can be combined to produce four different subtypes of
operant conditioning. For instance, a response can be strengthened
because it brings a reward. This form of reinforcement, positive

reinforcement , is the strengthening of behaviour after potential reinforcers
such as praise, money, or nourishment follow that behaviour (see Table 6.2 ).
For example, if you laugh at your professor’s jokes, the praise will serve as
a reward; this will increase the likelihood that your professor will tell
more jokes. (Remember: the “positive” in positive reinforcement indicates
the addition of a reward.) Positive reinforcement can be a highly effective
method of rewarding desired behaviours among humans and other
species.
Table 6.2 Distinguishing Types of Reinforcement and Punishment
Behaviour can also be reinforced by the removal of something that is

unpleasant. This form of reinforcement, negative reinforcement ,
involves the strengthening of a behaviour because it removes or diminishes a

stimulus (Table 6.2 ). For instance, taking aspirin is negatively reinforced
because doing so removes a painful headache. Similarly, studying in

order to prevent nagging from parents is also a form of reinforcement as
the behaviour, studying, will increase.

Negative reinforcement is a concept that students frequently find
confusing because it seems unusual that something aversive could be
involved in the context of reinforcement. Recall that reinforcement

(whether positive or negative) always involves an increase in the strength
or frequency of responding. Also remember that the term positive in this

context simply means that a stimulus is introduced or increased, whereas
the term negative means that a stimulus has been reduced or avoided.
But not all types of negative reinforcement are the same; in fact, negative
reinforcement can be further classified into two subcategories. Avoidance

learning  is a specific type of negative reinforcement that removes the
possibility that a stimulus will occur. Examples of avoidance learning

include leaving a sporting event early to avoid crowds and traffic
congestion, and paying bills on time to avoid late fees. In these cases,
negative situations are avoided. Escape learning , on the other hand,
occurs if a response removes a stimulus that is already present. Covering your

ears upon hearing overwhelmingly loud music is one example. You
cannot avoid the music, because it is already present, so you perform a

specific behaviour (covering your ears) to escape the aversive stimulus
instead. The responses of paying bills on time to avoid late fees and
covering your ears to escape loud music both increase in frequency

because they have effectively prevented or removed the aversive stimuli.
In the laboratory, operant chambers such as the one pictured in Figure
6.12  often come equipped with a grid metal floor that can be used to
deliver a mild electric shock; responses that remove (escape learning) or
prevent (avoidance learning) the shock are negatively reinforced. This

highly controlled environment allows researchers to carefully monitor all
aspects of an animal’s environment while investigating the different

contingencies that will cause a behaviour to increase or decrease in
frequency.
As with reinforcement, various types of punishment are possible. Positive
punishment  is a process in which a behaviour decreases in frequency because
it was followed by a particular, usually unpleasant, stimulus (Table 6.2 ). For
example, some cat owners use a spray bottle to squirt water when the cat
hops on the kitchen counter or scratches the furniture. Remember that
the term positive simply means that a stimulus is added to the situation
(i.e., no one is claiming that spraying a cat with water is an emotionally
positive experience). In these cases, the stimuli are punishers because
they decrease the frequency of a behaviour.
Finally, negative punishment  occurs when a behaviour decreases because it

removes or diminishes a particular stimulus (Table 6.2 ). Withholding
someone’s privileges as a result of an undesirable behaviour is an
example of negative punishment. A parent who “grounds” a child does so
because this action removes something of value to the child. If effective,

the outcome of the grounding will be to decrease the behaviour that got
the child into trouble.
Review Applying Reinforcement and Punishment

Shaping
Although these different forms of reinforcement and punishment make
sense in theory, researchers (and parents) have an additional challenge:
How do you get animals (or children) to perform the behaviour that you
want to reinforce? Rats placed in operant chambers do not automatically
go straight for the lever and begin pressing it to obtain food rewards.
Instead, they must first learn that lever pressing accomplishes something.
Getting a rat to press a lever can be done by reinforcing behaviours that
approximate (or lead up to) lever pressing, such as standing up, facing the
lever, standing while facing the lever, placing paws upon the lever, and
pressing downward. This process of reinforcing successive approximations of

a specific operant response is known as shaping . Shaping is done in a
step-by-step fashion until the desired response—in this case, lever
pressing—is learned. These techniques can also be used to help people
develop specific skill sets (e.g., toilet training). A similar process,
chaining , involves linking together two or more shaped behaviours into a

more complex action or sequence of actions. When you see an animal “acting”
in a movie, its behaviours were almost certainly learned through lengthy
shaping and chaining procedures.

Applications of shaping. Reinforcement can be used to shape complex
chains of behaviour in animals and humans. (Later attempts to teach the
cat to use a bidet were less successful.)
Bork/Shutterstock
Applying Operant Conditioning
It is important to remember that although most studies of operant
learning have involved animals, the principles derived from these studies
apply to humans as well. In fact, they are found in many different areas of
our lives ranging from work and school to interpersonal relationships. For
example, the operant conditioning principles that we’ve reviewed thus far
serve as the basis for an educational method called applied behaviour
analysis  (ABA), which involves using close observation, prompting, and
reinforcement to teach behaviours, often to people who experience difficulties
and challenges owing to a developmental condition such as autism
(Granpeesheh et al., 2009). People with autism are typically non-

responsive to normal social cues from a very early age. This impairment
can lead to a deficit in developing many skills, ranging from basic,
everyday ones to complex skills such as language. For example,
explaining how to clear dishes from the dinner table to a child with
autism could prove difficult. Psychologists who specialize in ABA often

shape the desired behaviour using prompts (such as asking the child to
stand up, gather silverware, stack plates, and so on) and verbal rewards
as each step is completed. These and more elaborate ABA techniques can
be used to shape a remarkable variety of behaviours to improve the
independence and quality of life for people with autism.

Processes of Operant Conditioning
In the previous section, you read about how the frequency of a behaviour
can be increased (reinforcement) or decreased (punishment) by a number
of different stimuli or responses. The obvious question, then, is why do
some stimuli affect behaviour while others have no influence whatsoever?
Is there a biological explanation for this difference?

Primary and Secondary Reinforcers
Reinforcers can come in two main forms. Primary reinforcers  consist of
reinforcing stimuli that satisfy basic motivational needs—needs that affect an
individual’s ability to survive (and, if possible, reproduce). Examples of these
inherently reinforcing stimuli include food, water, shelter, and sexual
contact. In contrast, secondary reinforcers  consist of stimuli that acquire

their reinforcing effects only after we learn that they have value. Money and
Facebook “likes” are both examples of secondary reinforcers. They are
more abstract and do not directly influence survival-related behaviours.

Animals pressing levers in operant chambers to receive rewards may
seem artificial. However, if you look around you will see that our
environment is full of devices that influence our operant responses.
Top: RisingStar/Alamy Stock Photo; bottom: Richard Goldberg/Shutterstock
Both primary and secondary reinforcers satisfy our drives, but what
underlies the motivation to seek out these reinforcers? The answer is

complex, but research points to a specific brain circuit, including a
structure called the nucleus accumbens (see Figure 6.13 ). The nucleus
accumbens becomes activated during the processing of all kinds of
rewards, including primary ones such as eating and having sex, as well as
“artificial” rewards such as using cocaine and smoking a cigarette.
Variations in this area might also account for why individuals differ so
much in their drive for reinforcers. For example, scientists have
discovered that people who are prone to risky behaviours such as

gambling and alcohol abuse are more likely to have inherited particular
copies of genes that code for dopamine and other reward-based

chemicals in the brain (Comings & Blum, 2000; Volkow & Morales,
2015). Researchers have also found that individuals who are impulsive,
and therefore vulnerable to gambling and drug abuse, release more
dopamine in brain areas related to reward, and have trouble removing
dopamine from the synapses in these areas (Buckholtz et al., 2010).
Figure 6.13 Reward Processing in the Brain
The nucleus accumbens is one of the brain’s primary reward centres.
Secondary reinforcers also trigger the release of dopamine in reward

areas of the brain. A number of neuroimaging experiments have shown
that monetary rewards cause dopamine to be released in parts of the

basal ganglia (Elliott et al., 2000) as well as in the medial regions of the
frontal lobes (Knutson et al., 2003). Some of these areas directly overlap
with those involved with primary reinforcers (Valentin & O’Doherty,
2009).
How can dopamine be related to operant conditioning? When a
behaviour is rewarded for the first time, dopamine is released (Schultz &
Dickinson, 2000); this reinforces these new, reward-producing

behaviours so that they will be performed again (Morris et al., 2006;
Schultz, 1998). These dopamine-releasing neurons in the nucleus
accumbens and surrounding areas help maintain a record of which
behaviours are, and are not, associated with a reward. Interestingly, these
neurons alter their rate of firing when you have to update your
understanding of which actions lead to rewards; so, they are involved
with learning new behaviour–reward associations as well as with
reinforcement itself.
Discrimination and Generalization
Once a response has been learned, the individual may soon learn that
reinforcement or punishment will occur under only certain conditions
and circumstances. A pigeon in an operant chamber may learn that
pecking is reinforced only when the chamber light is switched on, so
there is no need to continue pecking when the light is turned off. This
illustrates the concept of a discriminative stimulus —a cue or event that
indicates that a response, if made, will be reinforced. Our lives are filled with
discriminative stimuli. Before we pour a cup of coffee, we might check
whether the light on the coffee maker is on—a discriminative stimulus
that tells us the beverage will be hot and, presumably, reinforcing. There
are also numerous social examples of discriminative stimuli. For instance,
you might only ask to borrow your parents’ car when they show signs of
being in a good mood. In this case, your parents’ mood (smiling,
laughing, etc.) will dictate whether you perform a behaviour (asking to
borrow the car). Discriminative stimuli demonstrate that we (and animal

subjects) can use cues from our environment to help us decide whether to
perform a conditioned behaviour.
The idea of a discriminative stimulus should not be confused with the
concept of discrimination. Discrimination  occurs when an organism learns
to respond to one original discriminative stimulus but not to new stimuli that
may be similar to the original stimulus. For example, a pigeon may learn
that it will receive a reward if it pecks at a key after a 1000-Hz tone, but
not if it performs the same action following a 2000-Hz tone. As a result,

the pigeon won’t peck at the key after a 2000-Hz tone. Or, to extend our
earlier example, you may quickly learn that your father will lend you the
car, whereas your mother will not. In this case, the process of
discrimination would lead you to perform a behaviour (asking to borrow
the car) when you are with your father but not when you are with your
mother.
In contrast to discrimination, generalization  takes place when an operant
response occurs in response to a new stimulus that is similar to the stimulus
present during original learning. In this case, a pigeon who learned to peck
a key after hearing a 1000-Hz tone may attempt to peck the key whenever
any tone is presented. If petting a neighbour’s border collie (a type of
dog) led to a child laughing and playing with the animal, then they might
be more likely to pet other dogs or even other furry animals. In this
instance, a specific reinforcement related to an action (petting a specific
dog) led to a similar behaviour (petting) occurring in other instances
(petting other dogs).
If you’ve noticed similarities between discrimination and generalization

in operant conditioning and the same processes in classical conditioning
(see Module 6.1 ), you are not mistaken. The same general logic
underlies these concepts in both types of conditioning. However, while
discrimination and generalization in classical conditioning were due to

the strengthening of synapses as a result of simultaneous firing, in
operant conditioning, the mechanism appears to be dopamine-secreting

neurons.
Delayed Reinforcement and Extinction
The focus of this module thus far has been on behavioural and biological
responses to reinforcement and punishment. In most studies exploring
these responses, the reward or punishment occurred immediately
following the behaviour. This allows individuals to predict when a reward
will occur (Schultz & Dickinson, 2000). But you know from your own life
that rewards are not always immediate. What happens if the reward is
delayed, or doesn’t occur at all? As early as 1911, Thorndike (the cat
imprisoner) noted that reinforcement was more effective if there was very
little time between the action and the consequence. Indeed, in a study
with pigeons, researchers found that the frequency of responses (pecking

a button) decreased as the amount of time between the pecking and the
reward (a food pellet) increased (Chung & Herrnstein, 1967).
Interestingly, neuroscientists have found that neural activity decreases
during this time as well. In fact, delays of as little as half a second
decrease the amount of neural activity in dopamine-releasing neurons

(Hollerman & Schultz, 1996).
This effect of delayed reinforcement influences a number of human
behaviours as well. For instance, drugs that have their effect (i.e., produce
their rewarding feeling) soon after they are taken are generally more
addictive than drugs whose effects occur several minutes or hours after
being taken. This difference is due, in part, to the ease with which one
can mentally associate the action of taking the drug with reinforcement
from the drug (the consequence).

Injecting drugs allows them to enter the bloodstream and therefore the
brain more quickly than if they are taken orally. This is one reason why
injected drugs are often more addictive than pills.
Victoria M/Fotolia
Sometimes, however, a reinforcer is not just delayed; it doesn’t occur at
all. A pigeon may find that pressing a key in its operant chamber no
longer leads to a food reward. You may find that your parents no longer
let you borrow the car no matter how nicely you ask. Although both you
and the pigeon may persist in your behaviour for a while, eventually
you’ll stop. This change is known as extinction , the weakening of an

operant response when reinforcement is no longer available. If you lose your
internet connection, for example, you will probably stop trying to refresh
your web browser because there is no reinforcement for doing so—the
behaviour will no longer be performed. Extinction, like most of the

observable behaviours you’ve read about in this module, is related to
dopamine. If you expect a reward for your behaviour and none comes,
the amount of dopamine being released decreases (Schultz, 1998).
Dopamine release will increase again when there is a new behaviour–
reward relationship to learn.
Table 6.3  differentiates among the processes of extinction,
generalization, and discrimination in classical and operant conditioning.
Table 6.3
Comparing Discrimination, Generalization, and Extinction in Classical and Operant Conditioning
Reward Devaluation
In all of these examples of operant conditioning, the value of the
reinforcement remained the same. But if you think about your own life, it
quickly becomes apparent that this is not always the case. Food is
incredibly rewarding when you are hungry but becomes less so after you
have eaten a large meal. Similarly, $100 may seem like a lot of money to a
starving student, but would seem less important to a doctor with a high
income. If a behaviour is more likely to occur because of reward, what
happens when the reward becomes less rewarding?
Scientists have found that behaviours do change when the reinforcer

loses some of its appeal (Colwill & Rescorla, 1985, 1990). In a typical
experiment, rats are trained to press two different levers, each associated
with a different reward (e.g., two different rewarding tastes). If the
experimenters pre-feed the animal with one of these two tastes, they will
crave it less than the other; in other words, its reward will be devalued
compared to the other taste. Researchers consistently find a decrease in
the response rate for the “devalued” reward, whereas the other reward
remains largely unaffected.
Reward devaluation can also occur by making one of the rewards less
appealing. In this version of reward devaluation, one of the reinforcing
tastes is paired with a toxin that made the rats feel ill; this obviously
reduces its value! (Ideally, this pairing would occur outside of the operant
chamber so that the toxin didn’t serve as a positive punishment.) The rats
would then have the choice of two levers to press, one associated with a
rewarding taste and the other associated with the taste that is now less
rewarding than before. When these rats were later given the opportunity
to choose between the two operant learning tasks, they showed a strong
preference for the task whose reward had not been devalued (Colwill &
Rescorla, 1985, 1990). Neurons in the nucleus accumbens play an
important role in altering behaviour and “expectations” about rewards
that are devalued (West & Carelli, 2016). For example, neurons in some
regions of the nucleus accumbens fire less when a reward that has been
devalued is made available. Think of a favoured food item that

temporarily loses its status as a strong incentive after you have just eaten.
Reinforcement Schedules and Operant
Conditioning
Think about the last time you did something nice for a friend. How did
they respond? You may have received a hug. They may have said
“Thanks!” and smiled. Regardless, you likely received some positive
feedback that made you feel like your behaviour was worth repeating.
Now think about the last time you played a sport or a video game. Not
every shot would have hit the target, so your behaviour wasn’t reinforced
each time. But it was likely reinforced some of the time. These real-world
examples show you that some behaviours are reinforced more
consistently than others. The question that interested psychologists was
“How do these different patterns of reinforcement affect learning?”

Schedules of Reinforcement
Operant conditioning occurs, intentionally or unintentionally, in many
different areas of our lives. However, the exact timing of the action and
reinforcement (or punishment) differs across situations. Typically, a given
behaviour is rewarded according to some kind of schedule. These
schedules of reinforcement —rules that determine when reinforcement is

available—can have a dramatic effect on the learning, relearning, or
unlearning of responses (Ferster & Skinner, 1957). Reinforcement may be
available at highly predictable or very irregular times. Also, reinforcement
may be based on how often someone engages in a behaviour, or on the
passage of time.
During continuous reinforcement , every response made results in
reinforcement. As a result, learning initially occurs rapidly. For example,
vending machines (should) deliver a snack every time the correct amount
of money is deposited. In other situations, not every action will lead to

reinforcement; we also encounter situations where reinforcement is
available only some of the time. For example, phoning a friend may not
always get you an actual person on the other end of the call. In this kind
of partial (intermittent) reinforcement , only a certain number of
responses are rewarded, or a certain amount of time must pass before
reinforcement is available. Four types of partial reinforcement schedules are
possible (see Figure 6.14 ). These schedules have different effects on
rates of responding.
Figure 6.14 Schedules of Reinforcement
(a) Four types of reinforcement schedule are shown here: fixed ratio,
variable ratio, fixed interval, and variable interval. Notice how each
schedule differs based on when reinforcement is available (interval
schedules) and on how many responses are required for reinforcement
(ratio schedules). (b) These schedules of reinforcement affect responding
in different ways. For example, notice the vigorous responding that is
characteristic of the variable ratio schedule, as indicated by the steep
upward trajectory of responding. (c) Real-world examples of the four
types of reinforcement schedules.
Photos: bottom left: Li jianbin/Imaginechina/AP Images; bottom centre left: Lightreign/Alamy

Stock Photo; bottom centre right: Andresr/Shutterstock; bottom right: Bill Fehr/Shutterstock
In the descriptions that follow, try to remember the following four terms
as they are used in operant conditioning:
Ratio schedule: This means that the reinforcements are based on the
amount of responding.
Interval schedule: This means that the reinforcements are based on
the amount of time between reinforcements, not the number of responses

an animal (or human) makes.
Fixed schedule: This means that the schedule of reinforcement
remains the same over time.

Variable schedule: This means that the schedule of reinforcement,
although linked to an average (e.g., 10 lever presses or 10 seconds),

varies from reinforcement to reinforcement.
Keeping these distinctions in mind should help you make sense of the
four reinforcement schedules discussed below.
In a fixed-ratio schedule , reinforcement is delivered after a specific number

of responses have been completed. For example, a rat may be required to
press a lever 10 times to receive food. Similarly, a worker in a factory may
get paid based on how many items they worked on (e.g., receiving $1 for
every five items produced). In both cases, a certain number of responses
is required before a reward is given.
In a variable-ratio schedule , the number of responses required to receive

reinforcement varies according to an average. A VR5 (variable ratio with an
average of five trials between reinforcements) could include trials that

require seven lever presses for a reward to occur, followed by four, then
six, then three, and so on. But, the average number of responses required
to receive reinforcement would be five. Slot machines at casinos operate
on variable-ratio reinforcement schedules. The odds are that the slot
machine will not give anything back, but sometimes a player will win a
small amount of money. Of course, hitting the jackpot is very infrequent.
The variable nature of the reward structure for playing slot machines
helps explain why responding on this schedule can be vigorous and

persistent. Slot machines and other games of chance hold out the
possibility that at some point players will be rewarded, but it is unclear
how many responses will be required before the reward occurs. The fact
that the reinforcement is due to the number of times a player responds

promotes strong response levels (i.e., more button presses or lever pulls
on a slot machine). In animal studies, variable-ratio schedules lead to the
highest rate of responding of the four types of reinforcement schedules.
Psych@
Never Use Multiline Slot Machines
When casinos first became popular in the middle of the 20th

century, people who used slot machines would pull a lever.
Wheels with different images or numbers would spin around; if
the correct combination of numbers appeared, the player

would win a reward (often paired with loud noises and
hundreds of coins being dispensed). In modern casinos, the
slot machines are computerized. This technology has allowed
game designers to add a sinister trick to slot machines: It is

now possible for players to bet on several lines (rows) of
numbers rather than on just one. These multiline slot machines
therefore allow the player to make multiple bets on each “spin.”
On the surface, this doesn’t seem alarming. But these

machines are using operant conditioning against players. For
each line that a player bets on, they have to insert money into
the machine. So, if a player is betting on nine lines, they would
put $9 into the machine. Then the machine “spins” so that the
numbers and symbols on each line change. On many of these
spins, the player will win, a result that is paired with rewarding
celebratory sound effects as well as money. However, the “win”
will be for less money than the original total bet (e.g., winning
$5 after putting $9 into the machine). In other words, it is a loss
that is disguised as a win (Dixon et al., 2010). In an interview,

one game designer wrote, “[W]e give them a sense of winning
but also continue to accrue [their] credits” (Dow Schull, 2012, p.
121). Indeed, gambling researchers at the University of
Waterloo have worked out the mathematics for these slot
machines and found that players will double their bets only
20% of the time and will win 10 times their initial bet (viewed as
a “big win” by gamblers) less than 1% of the time (Harrigan et
al., 2014). And yet, due to the little rewards on each trial—the
losses disguised as wins—gamblers continue to press the

buttons. The house always wins in the long run.
Multiline video slot machines allow a player to bet on more
than one line of numbers and symbols at a time. However, the
small “wins” that players experience are often smaller than their
overall losses.
Frans lemmens/Alamy Stock Photo
In contrast to ratio schedules, interval schedules are based on the passage

of time, not the number of responses. A fixed-interval schedule 
reinforces the first response occurring after a set amount of time passes. If your
psychology professor gives you an exam every four weeks, your

reinforcement for studying is on a fixed-interval schedule. In Figure
6.14 , notice how the fixed-interval schedule shows that responding
drops off after each reinforcement is delivered (as indicated by the tick
marks). However, responding increases because reinforcement is soon
available again. This schedule may reflect how you devote time to
studying for your next exam—studying time tends to decrease after an

exam, and then builds up again as another test looms.
The final reinforcement schedule is the variable-interval schedule , in
which the first response is reinforced following a variable amount of time. The
time interval varies around an average. For example, if you were
watching the nighttime sky during a meteor shower, you would be
rewarded for looking upward at irregular times. A meteor may fall on
average every five minutes, but there will be times of inactivity for a
minute, 10 minutes, eight minutes, and so on.
As you can see from Figure 6.14 , ratio schedules tend to generate
relatively high rates of responding. This outcome makes sense in light of

the fact that in ratio schedules, reinforcement is based on how often you
engage in the behaviour (something you have some control over) versus
how much time has passed (something you do not control). For example,
looking up with greater frequency does not cause more meteor activity
because a variable-interval schedule is in effect. In contrast, a salesperson

is on a variable-ratio schedule because approaching more customers
increases the chances of making a sale.
One general characteristic of schedules of reinforcement is that partially
reinforced responses tend to be very persistent. For example, although

people are only intermittently reinforced for putting money into a slot
machine, a high rate of responding is maintained and may not decrease
until after a great many losses in a row (or the individual runs out of
money). The effect of partial reinforcement on responding is especially
evident during extinction. The partial reinforcement effect  refers to a
phenomenon in which organisms that have been conditioned under partial

reinforcement resist extinction longer than those conditioned under continuous
reinforcement. This effect is likely due to the fact that the individual is
accustomed to not receiving reinforcement for every response; therefore,
a lack of reinforcement is not surprising and does not alter the motivation
to produce the response, even if reinforcement is no longer available. We
see this effect in many situations ranging from gambling, to cheesy pick-
up lines in bars, to the numerous superstitions developed by professional
and amateur athletes.

Reinforcement and Superstition
It is clear that reinforcement can appear in multiple forms and
follows various schedules. What all forms have in common is the

notion that the behaviour that brought about the reinforcement
will be strengthened. But what happens if the organism is
mistaken about what caused the reinforcement to occur—will it
experience reinforcement anyway? This raises the topic of

superstition.
What do we know about superstition and

reinforcement?
Reinforcement is often systematic and predictable. If it is not,
then behaviour is eventually extinguished. In some cases,

however, it is not perfectly clear what brings about the
reinforcement. Imagine a baseball player who tries to be
consistent in how they pitch. After a short losing streak, the
pitcher suddenly wins a big game. If they are playing the same
way, then what happened to change the outcome of the game?
Did an alteration in their pre-game ritual lead to the victory?
Humans the world over are prone to believing that some ritual or
lucky charm will somehow improve their chances of success or
survival. Psychologists believe these superstitions can be
explained by operant conditioning.

How can science explain superstition?
Decades ago, B. F. Skinner (1948) attempted to create
superstitious behaviour in pigeons. Food was delivered every 15
seconds, regardless of what the pigeons were doing. Over time,
the birds started engaging in “superstitious” behaviours. The
pigeons repeated the behaviour occurring just before
reinforcement, even if the behaviour was scratching, head-
bobbing, or standing on one foot. A pigeon that happened to be
turning in a counterclockwise direction when reinforcement was
delivered repeated this seemingly senseless behaviour.
Humans are similarly superstitious. For example, in one
laboratory study, psychologists constructed a doll that could spit
marbles (Wagner & Morris, 1987). Children were told that the
doll would sometimes spit marbles at them and that these
marbles could be collected and traded for toys. The marbles were
ejected at random intervals, leading several of the children to
develop superstitious behaviours such as sucking their thumbs or
kissing the doll on the nose.
Research on superstition in humans suggests that we are prone to

acquiring an “illusion of control,” meaning that people mistakenly
believe that their behaviour causes events to occur. Someone

who performs an action that is followed by a desired outcome
will repeat it, even if the outcome is not actually caused by the
behaviour. This is especially likely if the probability of the
outcome is already high. For example, back pain comes and goes,
and so there is a high probability that if your back hurts, that pain
will lessen at some point. If you tried some new, untested

treatment and your pain goes away, you are likely to return to
that remedy the next time, even if science eventually finds that it
is no different than a placebo. Superstitious beliefs can also occur
for negative events, such as walking beneath ladders or wearing
something with the number 13 printed on it. In these cases
people believe that their behaviour can reduce the probability of
an outcome that is actually independent of their behaviour (e.g.,

“I had good luck because I switched my number to 14”). These
types of beliefs can be highly persistent, and people are adept at

devising reasons to continue believing that their behaviour
reduced an undesired, though uncontrolled, event (Matute &

Blanco, 2014).
Can we critically evaluate these findings?

Superstitious beliefs, though irrational on the surface, may
enhance individuals’ belief that they can perform successfully at a
task. Sometimes these beliefs can even enhance performance.

These findings, however, are best applied to situations where the
participant has some control over an outcome, such as taking an

exam or playing a sport. People who spend a lot of time and
money gambling are known to be quite superstitious, but it is

important to distinguish between games of chance versus skill in
this setting. “Success” at most gambling games is due entirely, or
predominantly, to chance. Thus, the outcomes are immune to the

superstitious beliefs of the players.
Superstitions are also prone to the confirmation bias—the

tendency to seek out evidence in favour of your existing views
and ignore inconsistent information—and the partial

reinforcement effect discussed above. If an athlete believes that a
superstitious behaviour leads to success, then they will notice

when the behaviour does lead to success. However, given that
losing is generally part of being an athlete, there will be times

when the behaviour is not reinforced. Given what you’ve read
about the partial reinforcement effect, it is easy to see how a

superstitious behaviour could be difficult to change. For instance,
former NHL goaltender Patrick Roy was as famous for his many
superstitions as he was for his playoff heroics. During every game
he would (1) skate backwards toward his net before spinning
around at the last minute (which made it appear smaller), (2) talk
to his goalposts, (3) thank his goalposts when the puck hit one of
them, and (4) avoid touching the blue line and red line when
skating off the ice. Roy has the second-highest total of wins for
NHL goalies and the most playoff wins in history (151). He won
the Stanley Cup four times and was the playoffs’ Most Valuable
Player three times (an NHL record). But, in addition to his 702
reinforcers, he also lost over 400 games in his impressive career.

Between Skinner’s original work with pigeons and more
contemporary experiments with people, it appears that operant

conditioning plays a role in the development of some
superstitions. Perhaps you have a good luck charm or a ritual you
must complete before a game or even before taking a test. Think
about what brings you luck, and then try to identify why you
believe in this relationship. Can you identify a specific instance
when you were first reinforced for this behaviour? Then
remember that the superstition is a form of reinforcement, a
linking of a behaviour and a response that is formed in your mind.
Whether a superstition affects your performance is based on

whether or not you allow it to.
Applying Punishment
People tend to be more sensitive to the unpleasantness of punishment
than they are to the pleasures of reward. Psychologists have
demonstrated this asymmetry in laboratory studies with university
students who played a computerized game in which they could choose a
response that could bring either a monetary reward or a monetary loss. It

turns out that the participants found losing money to be about three times
as punishing as being rewarded with money was pleasurable. In other
words, losing $100 is three times more punishing than gaining $100 is
reinforcing (Rasmussen & Newland, 2008).
The use of punishment raises some ethical concerns—especially when it
comes to physical means. A major issue that is debated all over the world
is whether corporal punishment (e.g., spanking) is acceptable to use with
children. In fact, more than 20 countries, including Sweden, Austria,
Finland, Denmark, and Israel, have banned the practice. It is technically

legal to spank a child aged 2 to 12 in Canada; in a contentious decision,
the Supreme Court of Canada (in a 6–3 vote) upheld Section 43 of the
Criminal Code allowing spanking (Supreme Court of Canada, 2004). Some
parents use this tactic because it works: Spanking is generally a very
effective punisher when it is used for immediately stopping a behaviour
(Gershoff, 2002). However, one reason so few psychologists advocate
spanking is because it is associated with some major side effects
(Gershoff, 2002; Gershoff & Bitensky, 2007). In a review of this research
published in the Canadian Medical Association Journal, investigators at the

University of Manitoba noted that spanking has been associated with
poorer parent–child relationships, poorer mental health for both adults
and children, delinquency in children, and increased chances of children
becoming victims or perpetrators of physical abuse in adulthood (Durrant
& Ensom, 2012).
Watch Thinking Like a Psychologist: Physical Punishment
It is also important to note that, while punishment may suppress an

unwanted behaviour temporarily, by itself it does not teach which
behaviours are appropriate. As a general rule, punishment of any kind is

most effective when combined with reinforcement of an alternative,
suitable response. Table 6.4  offers some general guidelines for
maximizing the effects of punishment and minimizing negative side

effects.
Table 6.4 Punishment Tends to Be Most Effective When Certain Principles Are Followed
Are Classical and Operant Learning Distinct
Events?
It is tempting to think of behaviour as being due to either classical
conditioning or operant conditioning. However, it is possible, even likely,
that a complex behaviour is influenced by both types of learning, each

influencing behaviour in slightly different ways. Consider gambling with
video lottery terminals, the topic of the opening story in this module. As
discussed, slot machines and VLTs use a variable-ratio schedule of
reinforcement, a type of operant conditioning that leads to a high
response rate. But, the flashy lights, the dinging sounds coming from the
machine, and even the chair all serve as conditioned stimuli for the
unconditioned response of excitement associated with gambling (Dixon
et al., 2014). So, classical conditioning produces an emotional response
and operant conditioning maintains the behaviour. Given these forces,
should we really be surprised that VLTs are so alluring to people, in

particular those prone to problem gambling (Clarke et al., 2012; Nicki et
al., 2007)?
Module 6.2 Summary
6.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with operant

conditioning.
Review Module 6.2
6.2b Understand . . . the role that consequences play in

increasing or decreasing behaviour.
Positive and negative reinforcement increase the likelihood of a
behaviour, whereas positive and negative punishment decrease the

likelihood of a behaviour. Positive reinforcement and positive
punishment involve adding a stimulus to the situation, whereas negative
reinforcement and negative punishment involve removal of a stimulus.
6.2c Understand . . . how schedules of reinforcement affect

behaviour.
Schedules of reinforcement can be fixed or variable, and can be based on
intervals (time) or ratios (the number of responses). As can be seen in
Figure 6.14 , variable-ratio schedules produce the most robust learning;

reinforcement is linked to the animal’s (or human’s) response rather than
to an amount of time, but the animal never knows how many responses
will be necessary for a reward to occur. Variable-interval schedules lead
to the slowest rate of learning.
6.2d Apply . . . your knowledge of operant conditioning to

examples.
The concepts of positive and negative reinforcement and punishment are

often the most challenging when it comes to this material.
Apply Activity Applying Reinforcement and Punishment

6.2e Analyze . . . the effectiveness of punishment on changing
behaviour.
Many psychologists recommend that people rely on reinforcement to

teach new or appropriate behaviours. The issue here is not that
punishment does not work, but rather that there are some notable
drawbacks to using punishment as a means to change behaviour. For
example, punishment may teach individuals to engage in avoidance or

aggression, rather than developing an appropriate alternative behaviour
that can be reinforced.

Module 6.3 Cognitive and
Dr. Edwin van Leeuwen
6.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with cognitive and
observational learning.
6.3b Understand . . . the concept of latent learning and its relevance to
cognitive aspects of learning.
6.3c Apply . . . principles of observational learning outside of the
laboratory.
6.3d Analyze . . . the claim that viewing violent media increases
violent behaviour.
Celebrity fashion statements often soon become the norm. People pay
for jeans that are neatly torn or shredded. Trends to wear skinny jeans,
baggy jeans, and even the option of wearing them backward spread
from person to person. Our capacity to adopt customs, pointless as they
may be, is evident across human societies. It appears this capacity is not
uniquely human. Take Julie, for example, a chimpanzee that developed
a habit of placing a long piece of grass in her ear, and keeping it there for
prolonged periods of time (Van Leeuwen et al., 2014). Julie did this
frequently over a three-year period. She did not appear to be using the
grass to scratch an itchy ear or to extract a small critter that made its
way inside. The behaviour seemed to have no adaptive function.
Granted, we may not regard Julie’s behaviour as a fashion statement

worth copying, but other chimpanzees in her social group did.
Following Julie’s innovation, several chimpanzees in her social group
began putting grass in their ears. Although humans take imitation to a

very high level, as we will see in this module, the capacity to do so is not
unique to us.
The first two modules of this chapter focused on relatively basic ways of
learning. Classical conditioning occurs through the formation of
associations (Module 6.1 ), and operant conditioning involves changes
in behaviour due to rewarding or punishing consequences (Module

6.2 ). Both types of learning emphasize relationships between stimuli
and responses and avoid making reference to the thinking part of the
learning process. However, psychologists also recognize that cognitive
processes such as thinking and remembering are useful to theories and
explanations of how we learn.

Cognitive Perspectives on Learning
Cognitive psychologists have contributed a great deal to psychology’s

understanding of learning. In some cases, they have presented a very
different view from behaviourism by addressing unobservable mental
phenomena. In other cases, their work has simply complemented
behaviourism by integrating cognitive accounts into even the seemingly

simplest of learned behaviours, such as classical and operant
conditioning.
Latent Learning
Much of human learning involves absorbing information and then
demonstrating what we have learned by performing a task, such as taking
a quiz or exam. Learning, and reinforcement for learning, may not be
expressed until there is an opportunity to do so. In other words, learning
may be occurring even if there is no behavioural evidence of it taking

place.
Psychologist Edward Tolman proposed that humans, and even rats,
express latent learning —learning that is not immediately expressed by a
response until the organism is reinforced for doing so. Tolman and Honzik
(1930) demonstrated latent learning in rats running a maze (see Figure
6.15 ). The first group of rats could obtain food if they navigated the
correct route through the maze. They were given 10 trials to figure out an
efficient route to the end of the maze, where food was always waiting. A
second group was allowed to explore the maze, but did not have food
available at the other end until the 11th trial. A third group (a control)
never received food while in the maze. It might seem that only the first
group—the one that was reinforced on all trials—would learn how to best
shuttle from the start of the maze to the end. After all, it was the only
group that was consistently reinforced. This is, in fact, what happened—at
least for the first 10 trials. Tolman and Honzik discovered that rats that
were finally rewarded on the 11th trial quickly performed as well as the
rats that were rewarded on every trial (see Figure 6.15 ). It appears that
this second group of rats was learning after all, but only demonstrated
their knowledge when they received reinforcement worthy of quickly
running through the maze.
Figure 6.15 Learning without Reinforcement
Source: Ciccarelli, S. K., & Noland White, J. (2010). Psychology: An Exploration, 1st ed., © 2010, pp.
79, 81, 141. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc.,
New York, NY.
Source: Adapted from Tolman, E. C., & Honzik, C. H. (1930), Degrees of hunger, reward and
non-reward and maze learning in rats. University of California Publications in Psychology, 4241–
4256.
Tolman and Honzik (1930) placed rats in the start box and measured the
number of errors they made in getting to the end box. Rats that were
reinforced during the first 10 days of the experiment made fewer errors.
Rats that were reinforced on day 11 immediately made far fewer errors,
which indicated that they had learned some spatial details of the maze
even though food reinforcement was not available during the first 10
trials for this group.
If you put yourself in the rat’s shoes—or perhaps paws would be more
appropriate—you will realize that humans experience latent learning as
well. Consider the layout of a university campus. In the first months of

school, new students might wander around the campus to find different
classrooms and perhaps the cafeteria, but they would probably leave
entire buildings unexplored. Yet, if they were suddenly asked to meet
someone in a specific building, they would likely be able to find that

location without much problem (i.e., they would not wander aimlessly
from building to building in a trial-and-error fashion as though

investigating a new environment for the first time). The reason is that
they would have formed an understanding of the general area, even
though that knowledge wasn’t rewarded at the time. Tolman and Honzik
assumed that this process held true for their rats, and they further
hypothesized that rats possess a cognitive map of their environment, much
like our own cognitive map of our surroundings. Their classic study is
important because it illustrates that humans (and rats) acquire

information in the absence of immediate reinforcement and that we can
use that information when circumstances allow.
S-O-R Theory of Learning
Latent learning suggests that individuals engage in more “thinking” than
is shown by operant conditioning studies. Instead, cognitive theories of
learning suggest that an individual actively processes and analyzes
information; this activity influences observable behaviours as well as our
internal mental lives. Because of the essential role played by the

individual, this early view of cognitive learning was referred to as the S-
O-R theory (stimulus- organism-response theory; Woodworth, 1929).
Stimulus–response (S–R) and S–O–R theorists both agreed that thinking
took place; however, they disagreed about the content and causes of the
thoughts. S–R psychologists (such as Thorndike) assumed that thoughts
were based on the S–R contingencies that an organism had learned
throughout its life; in other words, thinking was a form of behaviour.
Individual differences in responding would therefore be explained by the
different learning histories of the individuals. S–O–R psychologists, on

the other hand, assumed that individual differences were based on
people’s (or animals’) cognitive interpretation of that situation—in other
words, what that stimulus meant to them. In this view, the same stimulus
in the same situation could theoretically produce different responses
based on a variety of factors, including an individual’s mood, fatigue, the
presence of other organisms, and so on. For example, the same comment
to two coworkers might lead to an angry response from one person and
laughter from another. The explanation for these differences is the O in

the S–O–R theory; each person or organism will think about or interpret
a situation in a slightly different way.

The first two modules in this chapter focused on aspects of learning that
require direct experience. Pavlov’s dogs experienced the clicking sound of
the metronome and the food, one right after the other, and learning
occurred. Rats in an operant chamber experienced the reinforcing
consequences of pressing a lever, and learning occurred. However, not all

learning requires direct experience, and this is a good thing. Can you
imagine if surgeons had to learn by trial and error? Who on earth would
volunteer to be the first patient?
Luckily, many species, including humans, are able to learn new skills and
new associations without directly experiencing them. Observational

learning  involves changes in behaviour and knowledge that result from
watching others. Humans have elaborate cultural customs and rituals that
spread through observation. The cultural differences we find in dietary
preferences, clothing styles, athletic events, holiday rituals, music tastes,
and so many other customs exist because of observational learning.
Indeed, it is the primary way that adaptive behaviour spreads so rapidly
within a population, even in nonhuman species (Heyes & Galef, 1996).
For example, cats that observe others being trained to leap over a hurdle
to avoid a foot shock learn the same trick faster than cats who did not
observe this training (John et al., 1968). A less shocking example involves
rats’ foraging behaviour. Before setting off in search of food, rats smell the
breath of other rats. They will then search preferentially for food that
matches the odour of their fellow rats’ breath. To humans, this practice
may not seem very appealing—but for rats, using breath as a source of
information about food may help them survive. By definition, a breathing
rat is a living rat, so clearly the food the animal ate did not kill it. Living
rats are worth copying. Human children are also very sensitive to social
cues about what they should avoid. Curious as they may be, even young
children will avoid food if they witness their parents reacting with disgust
toward it (Stevenson et al., 2010). However, for observational learning to
occur, some key processes need to be in place if the behaviour is to be
successfully transmitted from one person to the next.
Even rats have a special way of socially transmitting information. Without

directly observing what other rats have eaten, rats will smell the food on
the breath of other rats and then preferentially search for this food.
Cathy Keifer/Shutterstock
Processes Supporting Observational
Learning
Albert Bandura (Bandura, 1973; Bandura & Walters, 1963) identified four
processes involved in observational learning: attention to the act or
behaviour, memory for it, the ability to reproduce it, and the motivation to
do so (see Figure 6.16 ). Without any one of these processes,
observational learning would be unlikely—or at least would result in a
poor rendition of the behaviour.
Figure 6.16 Processes Involved in Observational Learning

For observational learning to occur, several processes are required:
attention, memory, the ability to reproduce the behaviour, and the
motivation to do so.
First, consider the importance of attention. Seeing someone react with a

classically conditioned fear to snakes or spiders can result in acquiring a
similar fear—even in the absence of any direct experience with snakes or

spiders (LoBue et al., 2010). As an example, are you afraid of sharks? It is
likely that many of you have this fear, even if you live thousands of
kilometres away from shark-infested waters. The fear you see on the faces
of people in horror movies and in Shark Week documentaries is enough

for you to learn this experience. Observational learning can extend to
operant conditioning as well. Observing someone being rewarded for

certain behaviours facilitates imitation of the same behaviours that bring
about rewards.
Second, memory is an important facet of observational learning. When
we learn a new behaviour, there is often a delay before the opportunity to
perform it arises. If you tuned in to a cooking show, for example, you

would need to recreate the steps and processes required to prepare the
dish at a later time. Interestingly, memory for how to reproduce a

behaviour or skill can be found at a very early age (Huang, 2012). Infants
just nine months of age can reproduce a new behaviour (admittedly, a

much simpler one than cooking), even if there is up to a one-week delay
between observing the act and having the opportunity to reproduce it
(Meltzoff, 1988).
Third, observational learning requires that the observer can actually

reproduce the behaviour. This can be very challenging, depending on the
task. Unless an individual has a physical impairment, learning an

everyday task—such as operating a can opener—is not difficult. By
comparison, hitting a baseball thrown by a Toronto Blue Jays pitcher

requires a very specialized skill set. Research indicates that observational
learning is most effective when we first observe, practise immediately,

and continue practising and observing soon after acquiring the response.
For example, one study found that the optimal way to develop and
maintain motor (movement) skills is by repeated observation before and

during the initial stages of practising (Weeks & Anderson, 2000). It
appears that watching someone else helps us practise effectively, and

allows us to see how errors are made. When we see a model making a
mistake, we know to examine our own behaviour for similar mistakes

(Blandin & Proteau, 2000; Hodges et al., 2007).
Myths in Mind
Is Teaching Uniquely Human?
Teaching is a significant component of human culture and a
primary means by which information is learned in classrooms,

at home, and in many other settings. But are humans the only
species with the ability to teach others? Some intriguing

examples of teaching-like behaviour have been observed in
nonhuman species (Thornton & Raihani, 2010). Prepare to be
humbled.
Teaching behaviour has been discovered in ants (Franks &
Richardson, 2006)—probably the last species we might suspect

would demonstrate this complex ability. For example, a
“teacher” ant gives a “pupil” ant feedback on how to locate a
source of food.
Field researchers studying primates discovered the rapid

spread of potato-washing behaviour in Japanese macaque
monkeys (Kawai, 1965). Imo—perhaps one of the more

ingenious monkeys of the troop—discovered that potatoes
could be washed in salt water, which also may have given them
a more appealing taste. Potato-washing behaviour
subsequently spread through the population, especially among
the monkeys that observed the behaviour in Imo and her

followers.
Transmission of new and unique behaviours typically occurs

between mothers and their young (Huffman, 1996). Chimpanzee
mothers, for example, actively demonstrate to their young the
special skills required to crack nuts open (Boesch, 1991). Also,
mother killer whales appear to show their offspring how to

beach themselves (Rendell & Whitehead, 2001), a behaviour
that is needed by the type of killer whale that feeds on seals
that congregate along the shoreline.
In each of these examples, it is possible that the observer
animals are imitating the individual who is demonstrating a
behaviour. These observations raise the possibility that
teaching may not be a uniquely human endeavour.
Primate researchers have documented the spread of potato

washing in Japanese macaque monkeys across multiple
generations. Monkeys appear to learn how to do this by
observing experienced monkeys from their troop.
Miles Barton/Nature Picture Library

Is this killer whale teaching her offspring to hunt for seals?
Researchers have found evidence of teaching in killer whales
and a variety of other nonhuman species.
Danita Delimont Creative/Alamy Stock Photo
Finally, motivation is clearly an important component of observational

learning. On the one hand, being hungry or thirsty will motivate an
individual to find out where others are going to find food and drink. On
the other hand, children who have no aspirations to ever play the piano
will be less motivated to observe their teacher during lessons. They will
also be less likely to practise the observed behaviour that they are trying
to learn.
Observational punishment is also possible, but appears to be less

effective at changing behaviour than reinforcement. Witnessing others
experience negative consequences may decrease your chances of copying
someone else’s behaviour. Even so, we are sometimes surprisingly bad at

learning from observational punishment. Seeing the consequences of
smoking, drug abuse, and other risky behaviours does not seem to
prevent many people from engaging in the same activities.

Imitation and Mirror Neurons
One of the primary mechanisms that allows observational learning to take
place is imitation —recreating someone else’s motor behaviour or expression,
often to accomplish a specific goal. Observe an 18-month old toddler in a
social group and you will see imitation in action. Later, with greater
physical and cognitive maturation, children readily imitate highly

complex motor acts produced by a model, such as a parent, teacher, or
friend. This ability seems to be something very common among humans.
However, it is currently unclear what imitation actually is, although a
number of theories exist. Some researchers suggest that children receive
positive reinforcement when they properly imitate the behaviour of an

adult and that imitation is a form of operant learning (Horne & Erjavec,
2007). Others suggest that imitation allows children to gain a better
understanding of their own body parts versus the “observed” body parts
of others (Mitchell, 1987). Finally, imitation might involve a more
cognitive representation of one’s own actions as well as the observed

actions of someone else (Whiten, 2000). It is likely that all three processes
are involved with imitation at different points in human (and some
animal) development (Zentall, 2012).
Neuroscientists have provided additional insight into the functions of
imitation. In the 1990s, Italian researchers discovered that groups of
neurons in parts of the frontal lobes associated with planning movements
became active both when a monkey performed an action and when it
observed another monkey performing an action (di Pellegrino et al.,

1992). These cells, now known as mirror neurons, are also found in several
areas in the human brain and have been linked to many functions ranging
from understanding other people’s emotional states to observational
learning (Rizzolatti et al., 1996; Rizzolatti & Craighero, 2004).
Additionally, groups of neurons appear to be sensitive to the context of
an action. In one study, participants viewed a scene of a table covered in
a plate of cookies, a teapot, and a cup (see Figure 6.17 ). In one photo of
these items, the setting is untouched. In this case, reaching for the cup of
tea would indicate that the person intended to have a sip. In another
photo, many of the cookies are gone and the milk container has been
knocked over. In this case, reaching for the cup of tea—the identical
action as in the previous photo—would indicate that the person was
cleaning up the mess. Incredibly, different groups of mirror neurons fired
in response to the two images, despite the fact that the identical
movement was being viewed (Iacoboni et al., 2005). These results suggest
that the mirror neuron system—a key part of our ability to imitate—is
sensitive to the purpose or goal of the imitated action.
Figure 6.17 Grasping Intentions of Mirror Neurons
Watching the same physical action—grabbing the teacup—in these two

scenarios will lead to activity in different groups of neurons in the mirror
neuron system. This suggests that the mirror neuron system is influenced
by the goals of the actions, not just the physical action itself.
Source: From Iacoboni, M., Molnar-Szakacs, I., Gallese, V., Buccino, G., Mazziotta, J. C., and
Rizzolatti, G. PLoS Biol, 2005, 3, e79. http://dx.doi.org/10.1371/journal.pbio.0030079.g001.
Reprinted under open access license.
Television, movies, and music are generally experienced in a passive

fashion. All that is required is that we watch and listen. Violent media can
also be experienced in a more interactive fashion through video game

play.
#Psych
Violence and Video Games
Can pixilated, fictional characters controlled by your hands
make you more aggressive or even violent? Much has been said
about the potential negative effects of consuming violent
media (including games, movies, television shows, and music

lyrics) on behaviour. Recently, due to a drastic upsurge in their
popularity and sophistication, video games have also been
labelled with parental advisory stickers. Some violent games,

such as Call of Duty (over 200 million copies sold worldwide),
involve shooting and blowing up the enemy. Other games, such

as Grand Theft Auto, allow the player to commit illegal and
violent acts. An obvious question is: Are video games related to

aggressive behaviour (i.e., observational learning) in the same
way that movies are?
Of course, the most important question is whether a regular
pattern of playing violent video games causes violent

behaviour. As you have learned the same issue applies to
violent television, movies, and music lyrics. In 2015, the

American Psychological Association issued a report claiming
that there is a consistent link between violent video games and

violent behaviour. However, a number of academics disagreed
with the methods used to come to these conclusions. For one,

a “consistent link” shows that a relationship may exist between
game play and aggression, but says nothing about whether

there is a cause-and-effect relationship between them
(Ferguson, 2015). Critics also pointed out that violent crime is
decreasing in most countries despite the prevalence of video

games. It is therefore unclear whether we should be worried
about the effects that these games have on behaviour. A
potentially greater concern may be the physically inactive
lifestyle associated with frequent video game playing.
There are some experimental studies that have captured a lot

of attention from psychologists. For example, Bushman and
Anderson (2009) report that people who play violent games,

instead of nonviolent ones, are less likely to help someone with
an apparent injury. This and other work suggests that playing
violent video games desensitizes gamers to violence (Anderson
et al., 2007; but Gao et al., 2017 report no effect). These data
don’t mean that you should never play violent video games.
And, you don’t need replace playing Resident Evil with a steady
diet of Mario Kart. Rather, these data show you that the media
can influence your behaviour. It’s up to you to become aware of

how media violence can lead to (unintentional) observational
learning. Doing so will help ensure that your actions are, in fact,
your own.
Linking Media Exposure to Behaviour
Imitating behaviours such as facial expressions or picking up
teacups is fairly harmless. However, not all of the behaviours

children see are this innocent. Children (and adults) are exposed
to dozens of violent actions in the media, on the internet, and in
computer games every day. If kids are imitating the behaviours
they see in other contexts, does this mean that the media are
“creating” potentially violent people?
What do we know about media effects on

behaviour?
In some cases, learning from the media involves direct imitation;
in other cases, what we observe shapes what we view as normal

or acceptable behaviour. Either way, the actions people observe
in the media can raise concerns, especially when children are
watching. Given that North American children now spend an
average of five hours per day interacting with electronic media, it

is no wonder that one of the most discussed and researched
topics in observational learning is the role of media violence in
developing aggressive behaviours and desensitizing individuals
to the effects of violence (Anderson et al., 2003; Huesmann,
2007). So how have researchers tackled the issue?

How can science explain the effect of media
exposure on children’s behaviour?
One of the first experimental attempts to test whether exposure
to violence begets violent behaviour in children was made by
Albert Bandura and colleagues (1961, 1963). In a series of studies,
groups of children watched an adult or cartoon character attack a
“Bobo” doll, while another group of children watched adults who
did not attack the doll. Children who watched adults attack the
doll did likewise when given the opportunity, in some cases even
imitating the specific attack methods used by the adults. The

other children did not attack the doll. This classic study indicated
that viewing aggression makes children at least temporarily more
prone to committing aggressive acts toward an inanimate object.

In Albert Bandura’s experiment, children who watched adults
behave violently toward the Bobo doll were aggressive toward
the same doll when given the chance—often imitating specific
acts that they viewed.
Albert Bandura
Some scholars argue that viewing aggression is associated with
increased aggression and desensitization to violence (Bushman &

Anderson, 2007). In one Canadian study, Wendy Josephson
(1987) had children aged seven to nine view a violent or

nonviolent film before playing a game of floor hockey. Children
who viewed the violent film were more likely to act aggressively
(i.e., to commit an act that would be penalized in a real hockey
game). As an added twist, in some of the floor hockey games, a

referee carried a walkie-talkie that had appeared in the violent
film and thus served as a reminder of the violence. This movie-
associated cue stimulated more violence, particularly in children

who the teachers had indicated were prone to aggression.
Visual images are not the only source of media violence,

however. Music, particularly hip hop and rap music (Herd, 2009),
has become increasingly graphic in its depictions of violence over
the past few decades. Some psychologists believe that songs with
violent lyrics can lead to an increase in aggressive and hostile

thoughts in a manner similar to violent movies (Anderson et al.,
2003). In one study, German researchers asked male and female
participants to listen to songs with sexually aggressive lyrics that
were degrading to women. After listening to this music, the

participants were asked to help out with a (staged) taste-
preference study by pouring hot chili sauce into a plastic cup for
another participant (who was actually a confederate of the
experimenters). The researchers found that after listening to
aggressive music that degraded women, males poured more hot

sauce for a female than for a male confederate; this difference did
not occur after listening to neutral music. Female participants did
not show this effect. Male participants also recalled more
negative and aggressive thoughts. Interestingly, when women

listened to lyrics that were demeaning to men, they too recalled
more negative and hostile information (Fischer & Greitmeyer,
2006). Thus, the effects of media violence are not limited to the
visual domain and can affect both males and females.

Exposure to violent media and aggressive behaviour and thinking
are certainly related to each other. However, at least two very
important questions remain. First, does exposure to violence

cause violent behaviour or desensitization to violence? Second,
does early exposure to violence turn children into violent
adolescents or adults? Unfortunately, there are no simple answers
to either question, due in large part to investigators’ reliance on
correlational designs, which are typically used for studying long-

term effects. Recall that correlational studies can establish only
that variables are related, but cannot determine that one variable
(media) causes another one (violent behaviour).
Another concern with these studies is that they aren’t really

examining why people respond aggressively when they see
violent imagery. Although there is clearly a role for observational

learning, a number of researchers have also suggested that
people become desensitized to the violence and thus less likely to
inhibit their own violent impulses. Recent brain imaging studies
support this view. In one study, activity in parts of the frontal and
parietal lobes showed reductions in activity as people became
less sensitive to aggression shown in videos (Strenziok et al.,
2011). In another experiment, participants with a low history of
exposure to media violence showed more activity in frontal-lobe
regions related to inhibiting responses than did participants who

had more exposure to media violence and who had a history of
aggressive behaviour. These differences were particularly strong
when participants had to inhibit responses related to aggression-
related words (Kalnin et al., 2011). Fans of North American

football show reduced activity in brain regions associated with
pain perception and empathy when viewing violent imagery
(both specific to football and general violent themes) in
comparison to non-fans (Daniel et al., 2018). Although these
studies don’t definitively explain why media violence affects
behaviour, they do point to at least one potential cause.

If in fact media violence is a significant risk factor for future
aggressiveness, then interventions that protect younger people
are needed. Many organizations have stepped in to help parents
make decisions about which type of media their children will be
exposed to. The Motion Picture Association of America has been

rating movies, with violence as a criterion, since 1968. (Canada
does not have a national ratings system; individual provinces
each rate movies.) Violence on television was being monitored
and debated even before the film industry took this step. Since
the 1980s, parental advisory stickers have been appearing on
music with lyrics that are sexually explicit, reference drug use, or
depict violence. Of course, as you know, these precautions have
little effect on what children watch and listen to. Kids will always
find a way to access this type of material. But, providing parents

with more information about how these depictions of violence
can affect children will hopefully highlight some of the dangers of
these images and lyrics, and may inspire them to talk to their kids
about how violence can be real. Doing so might teach children

and adolescents to be better at examining whether media
violence could be affecting their own behaviour.
Module 6.3 Summary
6.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with cognitive and

observational learning.
Review Module 6.3
6.3b Understand . . . the concept of latent learning and its

relevance to cognitive aspects of learning.
Without being able to observe learning directly, it might seem as if no
learning occurs. However, Tolman and Honzik showed that rats can form
cognitive maps of their environment. They found that even when no
immediate reward was available, rats still learned about their
environment.
6.3c Apply . . . principles of observational learning outside of the

laboratory.
Apply Activity
6.3d Analyze . . . the claim that viewing violent media increases

violent behaviour.
Psychologists agree that observational learning occurs and that media can
influence behaviour. Many studies show a correlational (noncausal)
relationship between violent media exposure and aggressive behaviour.

Also, experimental studies, going all the way back to Albert Bandura’s
work in the 1960s, indicate that exposure to violent media can at least
temporarily increase aggressive behaviour.
Chapter 7
Memory
7.1 Memory Systems
The Atkinson-Shiffrin Model
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Distinguishing Short-

Term from Long-Term Memory Stores
The Working Memory Model: An Active STM System
Long-Term Memory Systems: Declarative and Nondeclarative
Memories
The Cognitive Neuroscience of Memory
Module 7.1 Summary
7.2 Encoding and Retrieving Memories
Encoding and Retrieval
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Context-Dependent
Memory
Emotional Memories
Forgetting and Remembering
Module 7.2 Summary
7.3 Constructing and Reconstructing Memories

How Memories Are Organized and Constructed
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: How Schemas Influence
Memory
Memory Reconstruction
Module 7.3 Summary

Module 7.1 Memory Systems
Jsemeniuk/E+/Getty Images
7.1a Know . . . the key terminology of memory systems.
7.1b Understand . . . which structures of the brain are associated with
specific memory tasks and how the brain changes as new

memories form.
7.1c Apply . . . your knowledge of the neural basis of memory to
predict what types of memory would be affected by damage to
different areas of the brain.
7.1d Analyze . . . the claim that humans have multiple memory
systems.
In October 1981, an Ontario man lost control of his motorcycle and
flew off an exit ramp west of Toronto. He suffered a severe head injury
and required immediate brain surgery in order to treat the swelling
caused by the impact. Brain scans conducted after the accident showed
extensive damage to the temporal lobes (including the hippocampus) as
well as to both frontal lobes and the left occipital lobe. When the man,
now known as patient K.C., recovered consciousness, doctors quickly

noted that he had severe memory impairments. However, when
psychologists from the University of Toronto dug deeper into K.C.’s
condition, it became clear that he had retained some memory for
general knowledge, but had lost his episodic memory, the memory of his
specific experiences (Tulving et al., 1988). Strikingly, K.C. could recall

the facts about his life (e.g., where he lived) but could not recall his
personal experiences or feelings relating to those facts (e.g., sitting on
the steps with friends).
K.C.’s devastating injuries helped researchers prove that we have

several different types of memory, each involving different networks of
brain areas (Rosenbaum et al., 2005). His case also hearkens back to a
philosophical question posed by William James (1890–1950) over a
century ago: If an individual were to awaken one day with their
personal memories erased, would they still be the same person?

You have probably heard people talk about memory as if it were a single
ability:
I have a terrible memory!
Isn’t there some way I could improve my memory?
But have you ever heard people talk about memory as if it were several
abilities?
One of my memories works well, but the other is not so hot.
Probably not. However, as you will learn in this module, memory  is

actually a collection of several systems that store information in different forms
for differing amounts of time (Atkinson & Shiffrin, 1968). One influential
model for understanding these different systems, and the different types
of memories they involve, can be seen in Figure 7.1 .

The Atkinson-Shiffrin Model
In the 1960s, Richard Atkinson and Richard Shiffrin reviewed what

psychologists knew about memory at that time and constructed the
memory model that bears their name (see Figure 7.1 ). The first thing to
notice about the Atkinson-Shiffrin model is that it includes three memory
stores (Atkinson & Shiffrin, 1968). Stores  retain information in memory

without using it for any specific purpose; they essentially serve the same
purpose as hard drives serve for a computer. The three stores include
sensory memory, short-term memory (STM), and long-term memory
(LTM), which we will investigate in more detail later in this module. In
addition, control processes  shift information from one memory store to
another. These are represented by the arrows in the model in Figure 7.1 .
Figure 7.1 The Atkinson-Shiffrin Model

Memory is a multistage process. Information flows through a brief
sensory memory store into short-term memory, where rehearsal encodes
it into long-term memory for permanent storage. Memories are retrieved
from long-term memory and brought into short-term storage for further
processing.
Source: Based on "Human Memory: A Proposed System and Its Control Processes” by in The
Psychology of Learning and Motivation: Advances in Research and Theory, Vol 2 (pp. 89–195).
An important point illustrated in Figure 7.1  is that our memory systems,
although stunningly powerful, are not perfect. We lose, or forget,

information at each step of this model. Information enters the sensory
memory store through all of the senses (e.g., vision, hearing, etc.), and
the control process we call attention  selects which information will be

passed on to STM. This is highly functional: the attention process selects
some elements of our environment that will receive further processing

and add to our experience and understanding of the world. However, this
functionality comes at a cost, because a vast amount of sensory

information is quickly forgotten, almost immediately replaced by new
input. We selectively narrow the information we receive in STM even
further through encoding , the process of storing information in the LTM
system. We retain only some information and lose the rest. Retrieval 
brings information from LTM back into STM; this happens when you
become aware of existing memories, such as remembering the movie you

saw last week. Of course, this process is not perfect—we are sometimes
unable to retrieve information when we want to. But, overall, our ability
to retrieve information is astonishing. This interplay between
remembering and forgetting is a theme that extends across all of the
modules in this chapter. In this module, we are primarily concerned with

the various types of memory stores, so we will examine each one in
detail.
Sensory Memory
“What did I just say to you?” This sentence rarely leads to good things. It
is generally spoken when one person in a conversation (e.g., a
relationship partner) is apparently not paying attention to what another
person (e.g., the other relationship partner) is saying. Individuals on the
receiving end of this sentence often experience anxiety, if not a sense of

doom. Luckily, we have a memory store that can sometimes come to the
rescue.
Sensory memory  is a memory store that accurately holds perceptual
information for a very brief amount of time—how brief depends on which

sensory system we talk about. Iconic memory , the visual form of sensory
memory, is held for about one-half to one second. Echoic memory , the
auditory form of sensory memory, is held for considerably longer, but still
only for about 5–10 seconds (Cowan et al., 1990). It is this form of
sensory memory that will allow you to repeat back the words you just
heard, even though you may have been thinking about something else.
How much information can be held in sensory memory? This important
question has proven very difficult to answer, because sensory memories—
particularly visual memories—disappear faster than an individual can
report them. George Sperling (1960) devised a brilliant method for testing
the storage capacity of iconic memory. In his experiment, researchers
flashed a grid of letters on a screen for a fraction of a second (Figure
7.2 ), and participants were asked to report what they saw. In the whole
report condition, participants attempted to recall as many of the letters as
possible—the whole screen. Participants were generally able to report only
three or four of the letters, and these would usually be in the same line.
But does this mean that the iconic sensory memory system can only store
three or four bits of information at a time? Sperling thought that it likely
had a larger capacity, but hypothesized that the memory of the letters
actually faded faster than participants could report them. To test this, in
the partial report condition, participants were again flashed a set of letters
on the screen, but the display was followed immediately by a tone that
was randomly chosen to be low, medium, or high (Figure 7.2 ). After
hearing the tone, participants were to report the corresponding line of
letters—bottom, middle, or top. Under these conditions, participants still
reported only three or four of the letters, but they reported them from the
row indicated by the tone. Because the tone came after the screen went
blank, the only way the participants could get the letters right is if all of
the letters were (temporarily) stored in sensory memory. Thus Sperling
argued that iconic memory could hold all 12 letters as a mental image, but
that they would only remain in sensory memory long enough for a few
letters to be reported.
Figure 7.2 A Test of Iconic Sensory Memory

But if information in our sensory memory disappears after half a second,
then how can we have any continuous perceptions? How can you stare
meaningfully into someone’s eyes without that person fading away from
memory half a second after you look away, just like the letters in
Sperling’s experiment? The answer is attention. Attention allows us to
move a small amount of the information from our sensory memory into
STM for further processing. This information is often referred to as being
within the “spotlight of attention” (Pashler, 1998). Information that is

outside of this spotlight of attention is not transferred into STM and is
unlikely to be remembered.
The relationship between sensory memory and attention is beautifully

illustrated by a phenomenon known as change blindness (Rensink et al.,
1997, 2000; Simons & Levin, 1997). In a typical change blindness
experiment, participants view two nearly identical versions of a

photograph (or some other stimulus); these stimuli will have only one
difference between them (e.g., a car is different colours in the two
photographs). The goal on each trial of the experiment is to locate the
difference (see Figure 7.3 ). However, the way in which the images are
displayed presents quite a challenge. The two versions of the photograph
are alternately presented for 240 ms each, with a blank screen in between
them. So, a participant would see Photograph 1, blank screen,

Photograph 2, blank screen, Photograph 1, blank screen, and so on. If the
item that differs between the two photographs (e.g., the car) is not the
focus of attention, people generally fail to notice the change (hence the
term change blindness). This is likely because the appearance of the blank
screen in between the two photographs occupies sensory memory, thus
making the memory of the previous photograph less accessible. However,
if the participant is paying attention to that changing element (i.e., the
spotlight of attention is focused on that part of the image), the image of
the first version of that item will be transferred into STM when the
second, changed version appears on the screen. The difference between
the two photographs then becomes apparent.
Figure 7.3 Change Blindness, Attention, and Sensory Memory

In change blindness, the sensory memory of photograph A disappears
before the onset of photograph B, making it difficult to identify the
difference between the two pictures. However, if a person is paying
attention to the area that differs between the two photographs, then the
representation of that part of the first photograph will still be in short-
term memory when the second photograph appears, thus making it
relatively easy to spot the change. In this example, part of a tree branch
disappears in photograph B.
Source: Based on Rensink, R. A., O’Regan, J. K., & Clark, J. J. (1997). To see or not to see: The
need for attention to perceive changes in scenes. Psychological Science, 8, 368–373. (Figure 1, p.
369). Image: Steve Smith.
An obvious question that arises is: Why don’t people quickly move their
spotlight of attention around so that they can transfer all of their sensory
memory into short-term memory? Unfortunately, there is a limit to how
much information can be transferred at once (Marois & Ivanoff, 2005).
Short-Term Memory and the Magical
Number 7
Although transferring information from sensory memory into short-term
memory increases the chances that this information will be remembered
later, it is not guaranteed. This is because short-term memory (STM)  is

a memory store with limited capacity and duration (approximately 30 seconds).
The capacity of STM was summed up by one psychologist as “The
Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two” (Miller, 1956). In his review,
Miller found study after study in which participants were able to
remember seven units of information, give or take a couple. One

researcher made the analogy between STM and a juggler who can keep
seven balls in the air before dropping any of them. Similarly, STM can
rehearse only seven units of information at once before forgetting
something (Nairne, 1996).
This point leads to an important question: What, exactly, is “a unit of
information”? The answer is not as straightforward as one might expect. It
turns out that, whenever possible, we expand our memory capacity with
chunking , organizing smaller units of information into larger, more
meaningful units. These larger units are referred to as chunks. Consider
these examples:
1. B T N C H C V N T C N S N C
2. C B C H B O C T V T S N C N N
If we randomly assigned one group of volunteers to remember the first
list, and another group to remember the second list, how would you
expect the two groups to compare? Look carefully at both lists. List 2 is
easier to remember than list 1. Volunteers reading list 2 have the
advantage of being able to apply patterns that fit their background
knowledge; specifically, they can chunk these letters into five groups
based on popular television networks:
1. CBC HBO CTV TSN CNN
In this case, chunking reduces 15 bits of information to a mere five. We
do the same thing with phone numbers. We turn the area code (236) into
one chunk, the first three numbers (555) into another chunk, and then the
final four numbers into one or two chunks depending upon the numbers
(e.g., 1867 might be one chunk because it can be remembered as the year
Canada became a country, while 8776 could be remembered as two
chunks representing the jersey numbers for hockey players Sidney
Crosby and P. K. Subban or, if you’re not a hockey fan, some other
meaningful pattern).
The ability to chunk material varies from situation to situation. If you had
never watched television, then the five chunks of information in the
example above wouldn’t be very meaningful to you. This suggests that

experience or expertise plays a role in our ability to chunk large amounts
of information so that it fits into our STM. Studies of chess experts have
confirmed that this is the case. Whereas most people would memorize the
positions of chess pieces on a board individually, chess masters perceive

it as a single unit, like a photograph of a scene (Chase & Simon, 1973;
Gobet & Simon, 1998). Therefore, they are able to remember the
positions of significantly more chess pieces than novices can. Of course,

chunking only works when the chess pieces are aligned in meaningful
chess positions; when they are randomly placed on the board, the
experts’ memory advantage disappears (see Figure 7.4 ). Chunking also
allows the chess masters to envision what the board will look like after
future moves, again providing them with an edge over novices.
Figure 7.4 Chunking in Chess Experts
Chess experts have superior STM for the locations of pieces on a chess
board due to their ability to create STM chunks. This advantage only
occurs when the pieces are placed in a meaningful way, as they would
appear in a game. (a) A depiction of a board with the pieces placed as
they would appear in a game (left) and pieces placed in random locations
(right). (b) The difference in STM for meaningful vs. randomly placed
pieces increased as a function of the test subject’s chess experience.
Source: Based on Gobet, F., Lane, P. C. R., Croker, S., Cheng, P. C. H., Jones, G., Oliver, I., &
Pine, J. M. (2001). Chunking mechanisms in human learning. TRENDS in Cognitive Sciences, 5(6),
236–243. (Figure 1, p. 237). Image: Steve Smith.
Importantly, this expertise is not necessarily based on some innate talent;
it can be learned through intensive practice. The most stunning

confirmation of this view comes from the Polgár sisters of Budapest,
Hungary (Flora, 2005). Their father, Lázló Polgár, decided before they
were born that he was going to raise them to become chess grandmasters.
Doing so would confirm his belief that anyone could be trained to

become a world-class expert in any field if they worked hard enough (he
was not a grandmaster himself). Polgár trained his daughters in the basics
of chess, and had them memorize games so that they could visualize each
move on the board. After thousands of hours of what amounts to
“chunking training,” the girls (who, luckily, enjoyed chess) rose to the top
of the chess world. The eldest daughter, Susan, became the first female to
earn the title of Grandmaster through tournament play. The youngest

daughter, Sofia, is an International Master. The middle daughter, Judit, is
generally thought of as the best female chess player in history.
Long-Term Memory
Not all of the information that enters STM is retained. A large proportion
of it is lost forever. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, however. Imagine if
every piece of information you thought about remained accessible in your
memory. Your mind would be filled with phone numbers, details from
text messages, images from billboards and ads on buses, as well as an

incredible amount of trivial information from other people (e.g.,
overhearing the coffee order of the person in front of you). Instead, only a
small amount of information from STM is encoded or transformed into a
more permanent representation that we can intentionally access later on.
Encoding allows information to enter the final memory store in the

Atkinson-Shiffrin model. This store, long-term memory (LTM) , holds
information for extended periods of time, if not permanently. Unlike short-
term memory, long-term memory has no capacity limitations (that we are
aware of). All of the information that undergoes encoding will be entered
into LTM.
Once entered into LTM, the information needs to be organized.
Researchers have identified at least two ways in which this organization
occurs. One way is based on the semantic categories that the items
belong to (Collins & Loftus, 1975). The mental representation of cat
would be connected to and stored near the mental representation of other
animals such as dog and mouse. This model is consistent with the results
from an interesting experiment from the 1950s. Participants were asked to
remember a list of 60 words that were drawn from four different

categories. Although the words were randomly presented, participants
recalled them in semantically related groups (e.g., lion, tiger, cheetah . . .
guitar, violin, cello, etc.). This research suggests that semantically related
items are stored near each other in LTM (see Module 8.1 ). A second
way that LTM is organized is based on the sounds of the word and on
how the word looks. This explains part of the tip-of-the-tongue (TOT)
phenomenon , when you are able to retrieve similar sounding words or
words that start with the same letter but can’t quite retrieve the word you
actually want (Brown & McNeil, 1966). What appears to be happening in
these situations is that nearby items, or nodes, in your neural network are
activated (see Figure 7.5 ).
Figure 7.5 The Tip-of-the-Tongue Phenomenon and the Organization of Memory

Long-term memory is often stored in networks. Activating one node in
the network such as cat also makes related items (e.g., dog) more
available in memory. In the tip-of-the-tongue phenomenon, a node that is
similar to the word that an individual is trying to retrieve is activated.
Sometimes, this activation will allow a person to retrieve the target word.
In other times, it leads to frustration (and occasionally cursing).
Of course, having the information in LTM doesn’t necessarily mean that

you can access it when you want to. If that were the case, then you would
never forget where you put your keys, and no one would be impressed by
your knowledge of Harry Potter trivia. Instead, the likelihood that a given
piece of information will undergo retrieval—the process of accessing
memorized information and returning it to short-term memory—is
influenced by a number of factors including the quality of the original

encoding and the strategies used to retrieve the information. These
important processes are described in depth later in this text.
The Atkinson-Shiffrin Model provides a very good introduction to the

different stages of memory formation. However, memory is much more
complex than is implied by this box-and-arrow diagram. Throughout the
rest of this module, we will move beyond the Atkinson-Shiffrin Model to

examine more complex and nuanced aspects of human memory. In the
next section, we will discuss working memory, a sophisticated form of
STM that involves a number of different, complementary, pieces.
Distinguishing Short-Term from Long-Term

Memory Stores
The Atkinson-Shiffrin model of memory is very neat and tidy,
with different memory stores contained in separate boxes. The

problem is that the real world rarely involves 30-second blocks of
time filled with 7 ± 2 pieces of information followed by a short
break to encode them. Instead, we are often required to use both
STM and LTM at the same time. Without this ability, we wouldn’t
be able to have conversations, nor would we be able to
understand paragraphs of text like this one. So, if STM and LTM
are constantly working together, how do we isolate the functions
of each memory store?
What do we know about short-term and long-

term memory stores?
As you’ll recall (thanks to your LTM), STM lasts for
approximately 30 seconds and usually contains 7 ± 2 units of
information; LTM has no fixed time limits or capacity. The
distinction between STM and LTM can be revealed with a simple
experiment. Imagine a group of people studied a list of 15 words
and then immediately tried to recall the words in the list. The
serial position curve—the U-shaped graph in Figure 7.6 —shows
what the results would look like according to the serial position
effect : In general, most people will recall the first few items from a
list and the last few items, but only an item or two from the middle
(Ebbinghaus, 1885/1913). This finding holds true for many types
of information, ranging from simple strings of letters to the ads
you might recall after watching the Super Bowl (Laming, 2010; Li,
2010).
Figure 7.6 The Serial Position Effect
Memory for the order of events is often superior for original

items (the primacy effect) and later items (the recency effect).
The serial position effect provides evidence of distinct short-term
and long-term memory stores.
The first few items are remembered relatively easily (known as

the primacy effect) because they have begun the process of
entering LTM. The last few items are also remembered well
(known as the recency effect); however, this is because those items
are still within our STM (Deese & Kaufman, 1957). The fate of
the items in the middle of the test is more difficult to determine,
as they would be in the process of being encoded into LTM. As

you have already read, some information is lost during this
process.
How can science explain the difference

between STM and LTM stores?
The shape of the serial position effect (see Figure 7.6 ) suggests
that there are two processes at work. But how do we explain the
dip in the middle of the curve? Memory researchers suggest that

this dip in performance is caused by two mechanisms. First, the
items that were at the beginning of the list produce proactive

interference , a process in which the first information learned (e.g.,
in a list of words) occupies memory, leaving fewer resources left to

remember the newer information. The last few items on the list
create retroactive interference —that is, the most recently learned
information overshadows some older memories that have not yet made
it into long-term memory (see Figure 7.7 ). Together, these two
types of interference would result in poorer memory performance

for items in the middle of a list.
Figure 7.7
Proactive and Retroactive Interference Contribute to the Serial Position Effect
In addition to demonstrating behavioural differences between
STM and LTM, scientists have also used neuroimaging to attempt

to identify the different brain regions responsible for each form of
memory. Deborah Talmi and colleagues (2005) at the University

of Toronto performed an fMRI experiment in which they asked
10 volunteers to study a list of 12 words presented one at a time
on a computer screen. Next, the computer screen flashed a word
and the participants had to determine whether the word was

from their study list. The researchers were mostly concerned
about the brain activity that occurred when the volunteers
correctly recognized words. When volunteers remembered

information from early in the serial position curve, the
hippocampus was active (this area is associated with the formation
of LTM, as you will read about later). By comparison, the brain
areas associated with sensory information—hearing or seeing the

words—were more active when people recalled items at the end
of the serial position curve. Thus, the researchers believed they
had isolated the effects of two different neural systems that,
working simultaneously, produce the serial position curve.
Can we critically evaluate the distinction

between STM and LTM?
In order to evaluate the idea that the serial-position effect is
caused by two interacting memory systems, we need at least two
types of tests. First, we need to find evidence that it is possible to
change the performance on one test but not the other. Then we
need to find medical cases in which brain damage affected one

system but not the other. Together, these findings would support
the view that STM and LTM stores can be distinguished from
each other.
The fact that it is possible to separately affect the primacy and

recency effects was demonstrated in the 1950s and 1960s. When
items on a list are presented quickly, it becomes more difficult to

completely encode those items into long-term memory. The
result is a reduction in the primacy effect; however, STM will still
contain the most recently presented items, thus leaving the
recency effect unchanged (Murdock, 1962). The recency effect

can be reduced by inserting a delay between the presentation of
the list and the test. This delay will allow other information to fill
up STM; LTM, as shown by the primacy effect, will be unaffected

(Bjork & Whitten, 1974).
Evidence from neurological patients also supports the distinction

between STM and LTM. STM deficits can occur after damage to
the lower portions of the temporal and parietal lobes, as well as
to lateral (outside) areas of the frontal lobes (Müller & Knight,
2006). In contrast, damage to the hippocampus will prevent the
transfer of memories from STM to LTM (Scoville & Milner, 1957).

These patients will have relatively preserved memories of their
past, but will be unable to add to them with new information
from short-term memory.

The idea of multiple memory stores is theoretically interesting
and can explain some of the minor memory problems we all

experience (e.g., forgetting parts of a phone number). But being
able to distinguish between STM and LTM has more wide-
reaching implications. The fact that it is possible to separate STM
and LTM—and that these stores are driven by different brain
systems—suggests that you could use simple tests like the serial-
position effect to predict where a neurological patient’s brain
damage had occurred. Many common assessment tools such as
the Wechsler Memory Scales (Wechsler, 2009) include tests of
both types of memory in order to do just that. Clues uncovered

by these initial assessment tests can be used by emergency room
physicians and neurologists to assist with their diagnoses and
may lead them to request a brain scan for a patient (to look for
damage) when they might not otherwise have done so.
The Working Memory Model: An
Active STM System
Imagine you are driving a car when you hear the announcement for a
radio contest—the 10th person to call 1-800-555-HITS will win an all-
expenses paid trip to Costa Rica! As the DJ shouts out the phone number,
panic sets in. You desperately want this prize, but you’re driving—and
traffic is swarming. What do you do? As you try to pull over to the side of
the road as quickly as you can, you will probably try to remember the
number by using rehearsal , or repeating information (in this case, the
number) until you do not need to remember it anymore. Psychological
research, however, demonstrates that remembering is much more than
just repeating words to yourself (see Module 7.2 ). Instead, keeping
information like the radio station’s phone number available is an active
process that is much more complex than one would expect.
According to the Atkinson-Shiffrin model of memory, you would attempt
to retain the phone number in STM, possibly transferring it to LTM. This
process would go smoothly if no other information entered STM, and if

traffic cooperated so that you didn’t really have to attend to anything
other than the phone number. Of course, the world is rarely that simple.
Indeed, in the 1970s, psychologists led by Alan Baddeley suggested that a
slightly more complex model of memory was required, one that better
explained how memory relates to our moment-to-moment conscious
experiences (Baddeley & Hitch, 1974). The result was a theory of
working memory , a model of short-term remembering that includes a

combination of memory components that can temporarily store small amounts
of information for a short period of time.
A key feature of working memory is that it recognizes that stimuli are
encoded simultaneously in a number of ways, rather than simply as a
single unit of information. The classic working memory model for short-
term remembering can be subdivided into three storage components
(Figure 7.8 ), each of which has a specialized role (Baddeley, 2001;
Jonides et al., 2005): the phonological loop, the visuospatial sketchpad,
and the episodic buffer. In the example above, the auditory information
from the DJ needs to be remembered so that you can win the trip to Costa
Rica (phonological loop). Visual information needs to be remembered so
that you can keep track of the traffic patterns while you drive
(visuospatial sketchpad). And while you are juggling these bits of
information, you are also linking them together into a mental narrative or
story about how you had to pull your car over to try to win an exotic
vacation (episodic buffer). These storage components are then
coordinated by a control centre known as the central executive. The central
executive helps decide which of the working-memory stores is most

important at any given moment (e.g., remembering the phonological
information of the phone number). It can also draw from older

information that is stored in a relatively stable way to help organize or
make sense of the new information.
Figure 7.8 Components of Working Memory Work Together to Manage Complex Tasks
As you can see, working memory provides a more nuanced model of
short-term memory processes than the Atkinson-Shiffrin model (Cowan,
2008). But is all this additional complexity necessary? Below, we will

discuss this model in more detail and show how various research findings
support this more complex understanding of memory.

The Phonological Loop
The phonological loop  is a storage component of working memory that
relies on rehearsal and that stores information as sounds, or an auditory code. It
engages some portions of the brain that specialize in speech and hearing,
and it can be very active without affecting memory for visual and spatial
information. At first glance, it appears similar to the STM store of the

Atkinson-Shiffrin model; however, a simple experiment will show you
how it differs. Earlier in this module, you read about the magical number
7, the finding that the capacity of STM is generally 7 ± 2 items. However,
research into the word-length effect  has shown that people remember
more one-syllable words (sum, pay, bar, . . .) than four- or five-syllable words
(helicopter, university, alligator, . . .) in a short-term-memory task (Baddeley
et al., 1975). Psychologists have found that working memory can only
store as many syllables as can be rehearsed in about two seconds, and
that this information is retained for approximately 15 to 30 seconds
(Brown, 1958; Peterson & Peterson, 1959). So, in the radio-contest

example, you would likely be able to remember the phone number (it can
be spoken in under two seconds), but you would need to pull over to use
your phone fairly quickly, before the information started to fade away.
Some readers might wonder how the word-length effect and chunking
(discussed earlier in this module) can both affect memory. According to
early models of chunking, long words like helicopter and alligator and
short words like bar and pay would all be one chunk, whereas the word-
length effect suggests that fewer long words would be remembered.

Which view is correct? As it turns out, both can be correct, depending
upon how memory is tested. If participants are allowed to recall
information in any order, chunking appears to be an important factor. If
participants have to recall the information in a particular order, then the
length of the stimuli limits memory (Chen & Cowan, 2005). In the case of
remembering the phone number of the radio station in our example, the
order of the numbers would obviously be a critical factor.

The Visuospatial Sketchpad
The visuospatial sketchpad  is a storage component of working memory that
maintains visual images and spatial layouts in a visuospatial code. It keeps
you up to date on where objects are around you and where you intend to
go. To do so, the visuospatial sketchpad engages portions of the brain
related to the perception of vision and space and does not affect memory
for sounds. Just as the phonological store can be gauged at several levels
—that is, in terms of the number of syllables, the number of words, or the
number of chunks—items stored in visuospatial memory can be counted
based on visual features such as shape, colour, and texture. This leads to
an important question: How are these different visual features processed

by the visuospatial sketchpad? Do different types of features (e.g., colour
vs. shape) get stored separately, or are they integrated into one chunk?
For example, would a smooth, square-shaped, red block count as one
chunk or three? Research has consistently shown that a square-shaped
block painted in two colours is just as easy to recognize as the same-

shaped block painted in one colour (Vogel et al., 2001). Therefore,
visuospatial working memory may use a form of chunking known as
feature binding , the process of combining visual features into a single unit
(see Figure 7.9 ).
Figure 7.9 Working Memory Binds Visual Features into a Single Chunk
Working memory sometimes stores information such as shape, colour,
and texture as three separate chunks, like the three pieces of information
on the left. For most objects, however, it stores information as a single
chunk, like the box on the right.
After visual feature binding, visuospatial memory can accurately retain
approximately four whole objects, regardless of how many individual
features one can find on those objects. Perhaps this is evidence for the
existence of a second magical number—four (Awh et al., 2007; Vogel et
al., 2001).
To put feature binding into perspective, consider the amount of visual
information available to you when you are driving a car, as in the story
that started this section. If you are at the wheel, watching traffic, you
probably would not look at a car in front of you and remember images of
red, shiny, and smooth. Instead, you would simply have these features
bound together in the image of the car, and you would be able to keep
track of three or four such images without much problem as you glance at
the speedometer and then back to the traffic around you. It is also
possible that you might group together several cars into one visual chunk
(e.g., the six cars you can see directly in front of you); it is likely that our
expertise with situations will allow us to alter the size of the chunks in
this component of working memory.

The Episodic Buffer
Recent research suggests that working memory also includes an episodic
buffer —that is, a storage component of working memory that combines the
images and sounds from the other two components into coherent, story-like
episodes. These episodes allow you to organize or make sense of the
images and sounds, such as “I was driving to a friend’s house when I

heard the radio DJ give a number to call.”
The episodic buffer is the most recently hypothesized working memory
system (Baddeley, 2001). It seems to hold seven to 10 pieces of
information, which may be combined with other memory stores. This

aspect of its operation can be demonstrated by comparing memory for
prose (words strung into sentences) to memory for unrelated words.
When people are asked to read and remember meaningful prose, they
usually remember seven to 10 more words than when reading a random
list of unrelated words. Some portion of working memory is able to

connect the prose with information found in LTM (i.e., knowledge about
the topic of the story) to increase memory capacity.

The Central Executive
Finally, working memory includes one component that is not primarily
used for storing information. Instead, the central executive  is the control
centre of working memory; it coordinates attention and the exchange of
information among the three storage components. It does so by examining
what information is relevant to the person’s goals, interests, and prior

knowledge and then focusing attention on the working memory
component whose information will be most useful in that situation. For
example, when you see a series of letters from a familiar alphabet, it is
easy to remember the letters by rehearsing them in the phonological
loop. In contrast, if you were to look at letters or characters from a

unfamiliar alphabet, you may not be able to convert them to sounds; thus
you would assign them to the visuospatial sketchpad instead (Paulesu et
al., 1993). Regions within the frontal lobes of the brain are responsible for
carrying out these tasks for the central executive.

Working Memory: Putting the Pieces
Together
Thus far, we’ve talked about the different pieces of working memory as
separate functions. In reality, however, these pieces would work together
to influence what information you are able to remember. So how do these

four components of the working-memory system work for you when you
cannot pull your car over immediately to place the 10th call to win the
trip to Costa Rica? Most of us would rely on our phonological loop,
repeating the number 1-800-555-HITS to ourselves until we can call.
Meanwhile, our visuospatial sketchpad is remembering where other

drivers are in relation to our car, even as we look away to check the
speedometer, the rearview mirror, or the volume knob. Finally, the
episodic buffer binds together all this information into episodes, which
might include information such as “I was driving to school,” “the DJ
announced a contest,” and “I wanted to pull over and call the station.” In
the middle of all this activity is the central executive, which guides
attention and ensures that each component is working on the appropriate
task. So, if a bus suddenly changed lanes in front of you, the central
executive would focus more on the visuospatial sketchpad until you were
sure that you were safe; then it would again focus on the phonological
loop. Thus, although your memories often seem almost automatic, there
is actually a lot of activity being performed by your working memory.

Long-Term Memory Systems:
Declarative and Nondeclarative
Memories
Figure 7.1  at the beginning of this module suggests that humans have
just one type of long-term memory (LTM). However, as you read in the
story about the neurological patient K.C., LTM has a number of different
components. K.C. could learn new skills, draw maps, and remember basic
facts. Yet, he was unable to recall specific episodes in his own life
(Tulving & Markowitsch, 1998). What do cases like K.C.’s tell us about
the organization of LTM?
One way to categorize LTM is based on whether or not we are conscious

of a given memory (see Figure 7.10 ). Specifically, declarative memories
(or explicit memories)  are memories that we are consciously aware of and
that can be verbalized, including facts about the world and our own personal
experiences; an easy way to remember this is that declarative memories
are, handily, about things we can declare. In contrast, nondeclarative
memories (or implicit memories)  include actions or behaviours that you
can remember and perform without awareness; that is, these are memories
about things that we cannot declare. But, this initial division only
scratches the surface of LTM’s complexity. Both declarative and

nondeclarative memories have multiple subtypes, each with its own
characteristics and brain networks.
Figure 7.10
Varieties of Long-Term Memory
Long-term memory can be divided into different systems based on the

type of information that is stored.
Declarative Memory
Declarative memory comes in two varieties (Tulving, 1972). Episodic
memories  are declarative memories for personal experiences that seem to be
organized around “episodes” and are recalled from a first-person (“I” or “my”)
perspective. Examples of episodic memories would be your first day of
university, the party you went to last month, and that time you remember
watching the Olympics on TV. Semantic memories , on the other hand,
are declarative memories that include facts about the world. Examples of
semantic memories would include knowing that Fredericton is the capital
of New Brunswick, remembering that your mother’s birthday is April 6,
and that bananas are (generally) yellow. The two types of memory can be
contrasted in an example: Your semantic memory is your knowledge of
what a bike is, whereas episodic memory is the memory of a specific time
when you rode a bike. It is worth clarifying that both episodic and
semantic memory representations can be active at the same time. If
someone asks you, “Can you ride a bike?” you will likely think of both
semantic information about bikes as well as episodic instances in which
you rode one. But there are also instances in which only one type of
memory can be active, such as if someone asked you if you had ever been
in a space shuttle. The term space shuttle would activate semantic
memory, but unless you are one of the 10 Canadians who have been in
space, it would not activate episodic memories of you staring down at our
blue planet.
The case of K.C. provides compelling evidence that semantic and episodic
memories are distinct forms of declarative memory. Although K.C. had no
specific memories of events that took place in his high school or his
house, he did understand that he had attended high school and that he
lived in a specific home in Mississauga, Ontario. However, K.C. is not the
only example of the distinction between these types of memory. Studies
of older adults have noted that they show similar (but much less severe)
impairments to K.C. on memory tests. As people get older, their episodic
memory declines more rapidly than their semantic memory (Luo & Craik,
2008). Older people are more likely to forget going on vacation five years
ago than they are to forget something like the names of provincial capitals
(Levine et al., 2002). Interestingly, they also show normal performance on
a number of tests related to nondeclarative memories.

Nondeclarative Memory
Nondeclarative memory occurs when previous experiences influence
performance on a task that does not require the person to intentionally
remember those experiences (Graf & Schacter, 1985). The earliest
published report of this form of memory came in 1845 when a British
physician named Robert Dunn described the details of a woman with

amnesia (Schacter, 1985). This woman learned how to make dresses
following her injury, but had no conscious memory of learning to do so.
A more pointed example was published in the early 20th century by
Claparède (1911/1951). He reported on an amnesic woman who learned
not to shake his hand because he had previously stuck her with a pin
attached to his palm. In both cases, the behaviours of patients with no
conscious memories were altered because of previous experiences, thus
suggesting that this previous information was encoded into LTM in some
form.
But nondeclarative memories are not isolated to cases of amnesia. You
have thousands of nondeclarative memories in your brain right now. The
best-known example of nondeclarative memory is procedural memory ,
learned patterns of muscle movements (motor memory) such as how to walk,
play piano, tie your shoes, or drive a car. Once procedural memories are
formed, we often don’t think of the individual steps involved or even pay
attention to the task, yet we execute them flawlessly most of the time.
A second example of nondeclarative memory is classical conditioning,
when a previously neutral stimulus (e.g., the sound of a metronome)
produces a new response (e.g., salivating) because it has a history of
being paired with another stimulus that produces that response (e.g.,
food). Although these associations can sometimes be consciously
recalled, this recollection is not necessary for conditioning to successfully
take place (see Module 6.1 ).
Review Varieties of Long-Term Memory Challenge

The Cognitive Neuroscience of Memory
Many psychologists who are interested in memory examine it from a

biological perspective, investigating how the nervous system changes
with the formation of new memories. To explore the cognitive
neuroscience of memory, we will take a brief look at the neuronal
changes that occur as memories are forming and strengthening, and will
then examine the brain structures involved in long-term storage. Finally,
we will use examples from studies of amnesia and other forms of memory
loss to understand how our memory models fit with biological data.
Memory at the Cellular Level
Memory at the cellular level can be summed up in the following way:
Cells that fire together, wire together. This idea was proposed in the
1940s by Canadian neuroscientist Donald Hebb. Specifically, he
suggested that when neurons fire at the same time, it leads to chemical
and physical changes in the neurons, making them more likely to fire
together again in the future (Hebb, 1949). Later research proved Hebb
correct, and demonstrated that changes occur across numerous brain cells
as memories are forming, strengthening, and being stored (Lømo, 1966).
This process, long-term potentiation (LTP) , demonstrated that there is an
enduring increase in connectivity and transmission of neural signals between

nerve cells that fire together.
The discovery of LTP occurred when researchers electrically stimulated
two neurons in a rabbit’s hippocampus—a key memory structure of the
brain located in an area called the medial temporal lobes (see Figure
7.11 ). Stimulation of the hippocampus increased the number of
electrical potentials from one neuron to the other. Soon, the neurons
began to generate stronger signals than before, a change that could last up
to a few hours (Bliss & Lømo, 1973). This finding does not mean that LTP
is memory—no one has linked the strengthening of a particular synapse
with a specific memory like your first day of university. In fact, no one has
seen LTP outside of a laboratory. But the strengthening of synapses
shown in LTP studies may be one of the underlying mechanisms that
allow memories to form.

Figure 7.11 The Hippocampus
The hippocampus resides within the temporal lobe and is critical for
memory processes.
This relationship is not permanent, however. Lasting memories require
consolidation , the process of converting short-term memories into long-term
memories in the brain, which may happen at the level of small neuronal
groups or across the cortex (Abraham, 2006). When neurons fire together
a number of times, they will adapt and make the changes caused by LTP
more permanent—a process called cellular consolidation. This process
involves physical changes to the synapse between the cells so that the
presynaptic cell is more likely to stimulate a specific postsynaptic cell or
group of cells (see Figure 7.12 ). Without the consolidation process, the
initial changes to the synapse (LTP) eventually fade away, and
presumably so does the memory. (This process can therefore be summed

up with the saying: Use it or lose it.) To demonstrate the distinction
between the initial learning and longer-term consolidation, researchers
administered laboratory rats a drug that allowed LTP, but prevented

consolidation from occurring (by blocking biochemical actions). The
animals were able to learn a task for a brief period, but they were not able
to form long-term memories. By comparison, rats in the placebo group,
whose brains were able to consolidate the information, went through the
same tasks and formed long-term memories without any apparent
problems (Squire, 1986).
Figure 7.12 Consolidation at the Synapse
Structural changes can occur at a synapse when a specific axon terminal

on the presynaptic neuron consistently stimulates a specific dendrite on
the post-synaptic neuron. These changes can help the process of memory
consolidation.
The initial strengthening of synapses (LTP) and longer-term

consolidation of these connections allow us to form new memories, thus
providing us with an ability to learn and to adapt our behaviour based on

previous experiences. However, these processes are not performed in all
areas of the brain. Instead, specific structures and regions serve essential
roles in allowing us to form and maintain our memories, a fact powerfully

demonstrated by the memory deficits of patients with amnesia.
Memory, the Brain, and Amnesia
On August 31, 1953, Henry Molaison was a 27-year-old man with
intractable epilepsy. Because his seizures could not be controlled by
medications, Mr. Molaison had been referred to Dr. William Scoville, a
respected Hartford-based neurosurgeon, for treatment. Dr. Scoville and
his colleagues had suggested that removing the areas of Molaison’s brain
that triggered the seizures would cure, or at least tame, his epilepsy. On
September 1, 1953, Henry Molaison underwent a resection (removal) of
his medial temporal lobes—including the hippocampus—on both sides of
his brain. After that day, he became known to the world as neurological
patient H.M.
H.M.’s surgery was successful in that he no longer had seizures.
However, as he recovered from his surgery, it became apparent that the
procedure had produced some unintended consequences. The doctors
quickly determined that H.M. had amnesia —a profound loss of at least one
form of memory. However, not all of his memories were lost; in fact,
numerous studies conducted by Brenda Milner of McGill University
demonstrated that H.M. retained many forms of memory (Milner, 1962;
Scoville & Milner, 1957). He was able to recall aspects of his childhood.
He could also remember the names of the nurses who had treated him
before the surgery, although he was unable to learn the names of nurses
he met afterward. Indeed, H.M. appeared unable to encode new
information at all. Therefore, H.M. was experiencing a specific subtype of

amnesia known as anterograde amnesia , the inability to form new
memories for events occurring after a brain injury.
H.M.’s anterograde amnesia was not due to problems with his sensory
memory or his STM. Both abilities remained normal throughout his life
(Corkin, 2002). He was also able to recall details of his past, such as
incidents from his school years and from jobs he had held before his
surgery; this demonstrates that his LTM was largely intact (Milner et al.,
1968). He was also able to form new implicit memories—he was able to
learn new skills such as drawing a picture by looking at its reflection in

the mirror despite the fact that he had no memory for learning this skill
(Milner, 1962). Similar improvements were found for solving puzzles
(Cohen et al., 1985). After extensive testing, researchers concluded that
H.M.’s amnesia was not due to problems with a particular memory store,
but was instead due to problems with one of the control processes
associated with those stores. Specifically, H.M. could not transfer
declarative memories from STM into LTM.
The fact that H.M.’s brain damage was due to a precise surgical procedure
(rather than to widespread damage from an accident like patient K.C.)
allowed researchers to pinpoint the area of the brain responsible for this
specific memory problem. H.M. was missing the medial temporal lobes of
both hemispheres. This damage included the hippocampus and

surrounding cortex as well as the amygdala. Based on H.M. and several
similar cases, researchers concluded that this region of the brain must be
involved with consolidating memories (see Figure 7.13 ). In fact, the
hippocampus was involved in the primacy effect in Deborah Talmi’s

research, which you read about earlier in this chapter. Thus, there is
converging evidence that the hippocampus is engaged in consolidating
information in STM so that it may enter and remain in LTM, a process

that most of us take for granted.
Figure 7.13 Damage to the Hippocampus: Disruption of Consolidation
When the hippocampus is damaged, the injury interferes with

consolidation, the formation of long-term memories. Such damage does
not prevent recall of preexisting memories, however.
Stored Memories and the Brain
It is important to note that our long-term memories do not just sit on a
neurological shelf and collect dust after they have formed. Memory
storage  refers to the time and manner in which information is retained
between encoding and retrieval. In other words, memory storage is an active
process; stored memories can be updated regularly, such as when

someone reminds you of an event from years ago, or when you are
reminded of information you learned as a child. In this way, memories
undergo a process called reconsolidation , in which the hippocampus
functions to update, strengthen, or modify existing long-term memories (Lee,
2010; Söderlund et al., 2012). These memories then form networks in

different regions of the cortex, where they can (sometimes) be retrieved
when necessary. These long-term declarative memories are distributed
throughout the cortex of the brain, rather than being localized in one region—a
phenomenon known as cross-cortical storage  (Paller, 2004).
Interestingly, with enough use, some of the memory networks will no

longer need input from the hippocampus. The cortical networks
themselves will become self-sustaining. The more that memory is
retrieved, the larger and more distributed that network will become.
Memories that were recently formed and have not had time to develop
extensive cross-cortical networks are much more likely to be lost
following a head injury than are older memories. Indeed, many people
who have experienced a brain injury—including concussions—report that
they cannot recall some of the events leading up to their accident. This
type of memory deficit is known as retrograde amnesia , a condition in
which memory for the events preceding trauma or injury is lost (see Figure
7.14 ). Despite what you might see on soap operas, the “lost time” is
generally limited to the seconds or minutes leading up to the injury. The
loss of extensive periods of time, as seen in K.C., is quite rare.
Figure 7.14 Retrograde and Anterograde Amnesia
The term amnesia can apply to memory problems in both directions. It

can wipe out old memories, and it can prevent consolidation of new
memories.
The fact that memories can be lost after even minor brain damage shows
us that our memory systems are quite delicate. Each of the boxes and
arrows in the Atkinson-Shiffrin model (Figure 7.1 ) can be disrupted in

some way; but the formation and storage of long-term memories seems
to be particularly sensitive to injuries. K.C.’s devastating injury shows us

that when we lose our memories, we lose an important part of ourselves.
So be careful.
Module 7.1 Summary
7.1a Know . . . the key terminology of memory systems:
Review Module 7.1
7.1b Understand . . . which structures of the brain are associated

with specific memory tasks and how the brain changes as new
memories form.
The hippocampus is critical to the formation of new declarative
memories. Long-term potentiation at the level of individual synapses

between nerve cells is the basic mechanism underlying this process.
Long-term memory stores are distributed across the cortex. Working
memory likely utilizes the parts of the brain associated with visual and
auditory perception, as well as the frontal lobes (for functioning of the
central executive).
7.1c Apply . . . your knowledge of the neural basis of memory to

predict what types of memory would be affected by damage to
different areas of the brain.
Apply Activity
7.1d Analyze . . . the claim that humans have multiple memory

systems.
Consider all the evidence from biological and behavioural research, not
to mention the evidence from amnesia. Data related to the serial position
effect indicate that information at the beginning and end of a list is
remembered differently, and even processed and stored differently in the

brain. Also, evidence from amnesia studies suggests that LTM and STM
can be affected separately by brain damage or disease. Most psychologists
agree that these investigations provide evidence supporting the existence

of multiple storage systems and control processes.
Module 7.2 Encoding and Retrieving
Memories
Tkreykes/Fotolia
7.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to forgetting, encoding,
and retrieval.
7.2b Understand . . . how the type of cognitive processing employed

can affect the chances of remembering what you encounter.
7.2c Apply . . . what you have learned to improve your ability to
memorize information.
7.2d Analyze . . . whether emotional memories are more accurate
than non-emotional ones.
According to legend, the first person to develop methods of improving
memory was the Greek poet Simonides of Ceos (556–468 BCE). After
Simonides presented one of his lyric poems at a dinner party in
northern Greece, the host, Scopas, told him that he was only going to
pay half of the cost of the poem (he clearly wasn’t impressed by the
work). Soon after this exchange, a grumpy Simonides was told that two
men on horses wanted to talk to him outside. While talking to the

horsemen, the roof of Scopas’ house collapsed, killing everyone inside
(Greek legends are not happy places . . .). When relatives wanted to
bury the family, they were unable to figure out who the remains
belonged to; no one could recall where the family members had been
sitting. Simonides had encoded the information differently than the rest
of the guests; he was able to assist the family by creating a visual image
of the dinner party and listing who was sitting in each chair. His story
demonstrates one of the key points to be discussed in this module—how

you encode information affects the likelihood of you remembering that
information later.
Why are some memories easier to recall than others? Why do we forget
things? How can you use memory research to improve your performance
at school and at work? These questions are addressed in this module,

where we focus on factors that influence the encoding and retrieval of
memories.
Encoding and Retrieval
In its simplest form, memory consists of encoding new information,

storing that information, and then retrieving that stored information at a
later time. As discussed in Module 7.1 , encoding is the process of
transforming sensory and perceptual information into memory traces, and
retrieval is the process of accessing memorized information in order to

make use of it in the present moment. In between these two processes is
the concept of storage, the time and manner in which information is
retained between encoding and retrieval. Over the past 50 years,
researchers have uncovered a number of factors that influence how our
memory systems work, and also how we can improve our chances of
remembering information. The most important of these factors appears to

be how the information was encoded in the first place.
Rehearsal: The Basics of Encoding
What would you do if someone gave you the address for a house party
but you didn’t have a pen or your phone around? How would you keep
the address in mind until you had a chance to write it down? If you’re like
most people, you will recite the address over and over again until you can
write it down. This type of memorization is known to psychologists as

rehearsal (although your teachers may have called it learning by rote), and
it is something probably all of us have tried. Indeed, students often try to
learn vocabulary terms by reading flashcards with key terms and
definitions over and over. But is this strategy effective?
Certainly this approach works some of the time, but is it really the most
effective way to remember? Unfortunately for all the cue-card-
memorizing students out there, the answer is a resounding “no” (Craik &
Watkins, 1973). The limitations of this form of rehearsal were shown in a
sneaky experiment performed in the 1970s (see Figure 7.15 ); in this
study, participants were asked to remember a four-digit number. After
seeing the number, they were asked to repeat a single word until being
prompted to report the number. The delay between the presentation of
the number and the participants’ responses varied from 2 to 18 seconds;
this meant that the amount of time each word was repeated also varied.
Because participants were trying to remember the digits, they barely paid
attention to the word they repeated. Later, when the researchers
surprised the participants by asking them to recall the distracting word
they had repeated, they found virtually no relationship between the

duration of rehearsal (between 2 and 18 seconds) and the proportion of
individuals who could recall the word (Glenberg et al., 1977). In other
words, longer rehearsal did not lead to better recall. This is not to say that
repeating the word had no effect at all; rather, this study demonstrated
that repeating information only had a small benefit, and that this benefit
was not increased with longer rehearsal times.
Figure 7.15 The Limits of Maintenance Rehearsal
It turns out that it is not how long we rehearse information, but rather how
we rehearse it that determines the effectiveness of memory. Individuals in

the study just described were engaged in maintenance rehearsal —
prolonging exposure to information by repeating it—which does relatively

little to help the formation of long-term memories (although it is better
than nothing). By comparison, elaborative rehearsal —prolonging
exposure to information by thinking about its meaning—significantly

improves the process of encoding (Craik & Tulving, 1975). For example,
repeating the word bottle, and then imagining what a bottle looks like and
how it is used, is an elaborative technique. In the story that began this

module, Simonides used a form of elaborative rehearsal by not only
memorizing a list of people at a table (Scopus, Constantine, Helena, etc.),

but actively imagining the dinner table and thinking about where people
were relative to each other.
Although maintenance rehearsal helps us remember for a very short time,
elaborative rehearsal improves long-term learning and remembering. It is

worth paying attention to this research and thinking about how it applies
to your success as a student (a form of elaborative rehearsal of this

information). Obviously, being a student involves encoding a large
amount of information into your memory in a relatively small amount of

time. Imagine how the two types of rehearsal may come into play in
meeting the challenge of university-level learning. Students who simply

memorize key terms and repeat the definitions largely fail to employ
elaborative rehearsal, and are less likely to do well on an exam. The wise
strategy is to try to elaborate on the material.
Levels of Processing
Although we often find ourselves using maintenance rehearsal in a pinch,
we rarely use that strategy for information that we intend to remember
much later. Instead, we focus on elaborative encoding, where additional
sensory or semantic (meaning) information is associated with the to-be-
remembered item. But not all elaborative encoding is created equal.

Instead, different types of elaborative encoding can produce markedly
different levels of recall. The details surrounding this variability were first
described by researchers at the University of Toronto, and led to a
framework for memory known as levels of processing (LOP).
The LOP framework begins with the understanding that our ability to
recall information is most directly related to how that information was
initially processed (Craik & Lockhart, 1972). Differences in processing
can be described as a continuum ranging from shallow to deep
processing. Shallow processing , as you might guess, involves encoding

more superficial properties of a stimulus, such as the sound or spelling of a word.
Deep processing , on the other hand, is generally related to encoding
information about an item’s meaning or its function. The superiority of deep
processing was demonstrated in a study in which participants encoded
words using shallow processing (e.g., “Does this word rhyme with
dust?. . . TRUST”) or deep processing (e.g., “Is this word a synonym for
locomotive?. . .TRAIN”). When given a surprise memory test for the words,
the differences ranged from recalling as few as 14% of the shallow words
to 96% of the deeply processed words (Craik & Tulving, 1975). In

essence, they were almost seven times more likely to recall a deeply
processed word than one that was processed at only a shallow level.
Importantly, such effects are limited to LTM; STM memory rates are
unaffected by shallow or deep processing (Rose et al., 2010; Figure
7.16 ).
Figure 7.16 Levels of Processing Affect Long-Term Memory, But Not Working Memory
When tested immediately after studying words, levels of processing do

not seem to affect memory. In contrast, when there is a gap between
studying words and being tested, levels of processing are important.
When words are encoded based on their meaning (semantics), they are
better retained in long-term memory.
Source: Rose, N., Myerson, J., Roediger, H., & Hale, S. (2010). Similarities and differences
between working memory and longterm memory: Evidence from the levels-of-processing span
task. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory, and Cognition, 36(2), 471–483.
Similar effects have been found for another form of deep processing. The
self-reference effect  occurs when you think about information in terms of
how it relates to you or how it is useful to you; this type of encoding will lead to
you remembering that information better than you otherwise would have
(Symons & Johnson, 1997). This outcome is not terribly surprising, but it
is still helpful to think about when learning new material. The self-
reference effect is one of the reasons why your psychology professor (and
this text) tries to show you how psychological concepts relate to your life
—linking a concept to “you” will help you remember it later.
Although encoding strategies clearly influence our ability to remember
information later, they only tell part of the story. The conditions in which
we attempt to retrieve information from memory can also affect whether
or not that information will be recalled.
Experimenting with Levels of Processing

Retrieval
Once information is encoded—be it in a deep or shallow fashion—and
stored in memory, the challenge is then to be able to retrieve that
information when it is needed. There are two forms of intentional
memory retrieval, both of which are familiar to long-suffering students
like the readers of this text. Recognition  involves identifying a stimulus or

piece of information when it is presented to you. Examples of recognition
memory would be identifying someone you know on the bus (or in a
police lineup), or answering standard multiple-choice test questions.
Recall  involves retrieving information when asked, but without that
information being present during the retrieval process. Examples of this would
be describing a friend’s appearance to someone else or answering short-
answer or essay questions on an exam.
Recall is helped substantially when there are hints, or retrieval cues, that
help prompt our memory. The more detailed the retrieval cue, the easier
it is for us to produce the memory. For instance, if you were given a list of
30 words to remember, it is unlikely that you would be able to recall all of
the words. But if you were given a hint for a “forgotten” word, such as “gr
—” for the word grape, you would be likely to retrieve that information.
The hint grap- would provide even more information than “gr—” and
would lead to even better retrieval (Tulving & Watkins, 1975). However,
life is not a series of word lists. Instead, retrieval cues in the real world
often involve places, people, sights, and sounds—in other words, the
environment or context in which you are trying to retrieve a memory.

Researchers have found that retrieval is most effective when the conditions at
the time of encoding and retrieval are the same, a tendency known as the
encoding specificity principle  (Tulving & Thompson, 1973).
The encoding specificity principle can take many forms. It can include
internal contexts such as mood and even whether a person is intoxicated
or not. As you’ll see in the next section, encoding specificity can also
include external contexts such as the physical setting.

Context-Dependent Memory
One of the most intuitive forms of encoding specificity is context-
dependent memory , the idea that retrieval is more effective when

it takes place in the same physical setting (context) as encoding. But
what elements of the environment make up “context”? Is one
sense (e.g., smell) enough to produce this effect? And does
context specificity affect all types of memory equally?
What do we know about context-dependent

memory?
The initial demonstrations of context-dependent learning and
memory used very simple cues: words. In such studies,
participants learned pairs of words; some of the words might be

associated with each other (e.g., bark – dog) and others might
rhyme with each other (e.g., worse – nurse). A recall test for the
second words in each pair (e.g., dog or nurse) generally led to
respectable memory performance. However, performance

improved when the original context (the first word of the word
pair) was reinstated and could serve as a retrieval cue; the more
information from the original context that was included, the
better the level of retrieval (Tulving & Watkins, 1975).
Subsequent studies have focused on the role of environmental
contexts on memory. In a classic study, members of a scuba club

volunteered to memorize word lists—half of the test participants
did so while diving 6.7 m (20 feet) underwater, and half did so
while on land (Godden & Baddeley, 1975). After a short delay,
the divers were tested again; however, some of the experimental
participants had switched locations. This led to four test groups:
trained and tested underwater, trained and tested on dry land,
trained underwater but tested on land, and trained on land but
tested underwater. As you can see in Figure 7.17 , the results
demonstrated that context affects memory. Those who were
tested in the same context as where encoding took place (i.e.,

land–land or underwater–underwater) remembered
approximately 40% more items than those who switched
locations (i.e., land–underwater or underwater–land). Thus, both
controlled laboratory studies and studies involving dramatic
environmental manipulations have shown that matching the
encoding and retrieval contexts leads to better recall of studied
material.
Figure 7.17 Context-Dependent Learning
Divers who encoded information on land had better recall on

land than underwater. Divers who encoded information
underwater had the reverse experience, demonstrating better
recall underwater than when on land.
Source: Lilienfeld, S. O., Lynn, S. J., Namy, L. L., & Woolf, N. J. (2011). Psychology:
From Inquiry to Understanding, 2nd ed., © 2011. Reprinted and electronically
How can science explain context-dependent

memory?
Context-dependent memory clearly demonstrates that the
characteristics of the environment can serve as retrieval cues for

memory. In the Godden and Baddeley (1975) study, the primary
cue was likely the feeling of being underwater; however, diving

also involves a change of lighting as well as the sounds of the
breathing apparatus. In other words, when we encode

information, we are also encoding information from a number of
senses (vision, hearing, touch, etc.). Presumably, each of these

senses can help trigger memories. For instance, most of you have
had the experience in which an odour (e.g., fresh-baked cookies)
instantly brings back memories (e.g., your grandmother’s

kitchen). This common phenomenon was tested in a clever
experiment by researchers in the U.K. In this study, researchers

tested whether memory of the Viking museum in York could be
enhanced if the memory test occurred in a room with a similar

distinctive set of smells as the museum (burned wood, apples,
garbage, beef, fish, rope/tar, and earth . . . perhaps the Viking

equivalent of Axe body spray). The researchers found that
participants produced more accurate memories of the museum

when the smell of the test room matched the smell of the
museum (Aggleton & Waskett, 1999). Similar results have been
found for the effect of smells on memory for word lists (Stafford
et al., 2009). Context-dependent memory has also been found for
the flavour of gum being chewed during encoding and retrieval

(Baker et al., 2004) as well as for the amount of background noise
when students are studying and taking a test (Grant et al., 1998).
These results suggest that matching the physical and sensory
characteristics of the encoding and retrieval environments affect
memory, likely due to the retrieval cues provided by these
attributes.
Brain imaging studies have also provided evidence in favour of

context-dependent memory. Studies using fMRI have found
increased activity in the hippocampus and parts of the prefrontal
cortex (part of the frontal lobes) when the retrieval conditions
match the context in which the memory was encoded (Kalisch et

al., 2006; Wagner et al., 1998). Activity in the right frontal lobes is
particularly sensitive to context, likely because this region is
known to be critical for the retrieval process (Tulving et al.,
1994).

Although there is evidence that context-dependent memory
exists, there are some important limitations to these effects. First,

not all types of memory are equally enhanced by returning a
person to the context in which he or she encoded the to-be-
remembered information. Recognition memory (e.g., multiple-
choice questions) is not significantly helped by context; this is

likely due to the fact that the presence of the item (e.g., a
photograph or one of the options on a test question) already
serves as a very strong retrieval cue (Fernández & Alonso, 2001).
Recall, on the other hand, requires you to generate the to-be-

remembered information without any external cues. In this case,
returning to the encoding context could help prompt a memory.
Second, information that is central to a memory episode (e.g., a
person’s face in a photograph or in a conversation) is generally
unaffected by context. Peripheral information (e.g., the faces of

people who were nearby when you were having a conversation)
does seem to be enhanced when a person returns to the original
context (Brown, 2003; Sutherland & Hayne, 2001). As a rule,
when memory for information is quite good, context will have
little effect on accuracy; however, when memory is relatively
poor, then returning to the encoding context can improve recall.
There is one additional issue related to context- dependent
memory. Researchers at Simon Fraser University have noted that

returning a person to the context in which he encoded
information can improve recall and increase the number of false
positives (i.e., saying “I remember” to stimuli that were never
seen). Wong and Read (2011) showed participants a video of a
staged crime; viewing took place in either a large testing room or

a small study room. Participants returned one week later for a
follow-up test in which they were asked to identify the culprit
from a photo lineup. This test took place either in the same room
as the initial viewing of the video or in the opposite room. The

catch was that for half of the participants, the photo lineup did
not include the person from the original video (the “target absent
condition”). The results of the test demonstrated the effect of
context: Performance was much higher when the testing took

place in the same room as the initial encoding. However,
participants who took the test in the same context as they saw the
video were also more likely to claim that a photo looked familiar
even in the target-absent condition (see Figure 7.18 ). Returning to
the encoding context may therefore alter a person’s threshold for

saying “I remember.” This trend is likely due to the retrieval cues
associated with the environment leading to a feeling of familiarity
that is mistakenly attributed to the to-be-remembered
information (Leboe & Whittlesea, 2002), in this case the face of a

criminal. This study has clear implications for police procedures,
as many police departments encourage returning witnesses to the
scene of a crime in order to improve their memories
(Hershkowitz et al., 1998; Kebbell et al., 1999).
Figure 7.18 False Familiarity and Context-Dependent Memory
In a study involving the identification of a thief in a staged

robbery, participants viewed a robbery and then later selected the
thief from a lineup of photographs. If both stages of the study
were performed in the same room (i.e., the context had been
reinstated), identification of the thief increased. However, we
should also keep in mind that participants were also more likely
to rate an incorrect face as being familiar; this is shown by the
lower accuracy score for the Same than for the Different contexts
in the Target Absent condition on the right.
Source: From Wong, C. K., & Read, J. D. (2009). Positive and negative effects of
physical context reinstatement on eyewitness recall and identification. Applied Cognitive
Psychology, 25, 2–11. Figure 2 (p. 7). Copyright © 2009 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
Reproduced by permission of John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

One of the most interesting implications of context-dependent
memory research is that it implies that some forgotten
information is not gone forever, but is instead simply inaccessible
because the proper cues have not been provided (Tulving, 1974).
This is the assumption made by police investigators who return

witnesses to the scene of the crime. However, the results of the
Wong and Read (2011) photo lineup story do suggest that we
need to be cautious in our interpretation of context-dependent
memory, as the retrieval cues associated with the context could

actually lead to false feelings of familiarity that could have
devastating effects on people’s lives.
State-Dependent Memory
Although we are sure that most readers of this book dedicate their lives to
healthy eating and exercise, it is likely that a few of you will have
consumed substances that can affect your memory. For example, people
sometimes drink enough alcohol that they are unable to remember some
details of their night out with their friends. But is that information gone
forever or can it be accessed in the same way that some context-
dependent memories can be retrieved with the help of environmental
cues? Research suggests that retrieval is more effective when your internal
state matches the state you were in during encoding, a phenomenon known as
state-dependent memory . In the first demonstration of this, Goodwin

and colleagues (1969) got half of their participants extremely drunk (their
blood-alcohol level was three times the legal limit); the other half were
sober. Participants encoded information and completed several memory
tests; they were then instructed to return 24 hours later for additional
testing (and a new liver). On Day 2 of testing, half of the participants

were again put into a state of severe intoxication; half of these
participants had also been drunk on Day 1, and the other half had been
sober. Thus, there were four groups: drunk–drunk (drunk on Day 1 and
Day 2), drunk–sober, sober–drunk, and sober–sober. Not surprisingly,
the sober–sober group outperformed all of the others. However, tests of
recall showed that the drunk–drunk group outperformed the groups in
which participants were intoxicated during only one of the two test
sessions. The state of intoxication served as a retrieval cue for the
participants’ memory. As with context-dependent memory, this effect

appears to be strongest for declarative memory (e.g., recall), the form of
memory that requires the participant to generate the response on their
own (Duka et al., 2001).
Similar effects have been found for other substances, including marijuana
(Hill et al., 1973; Stillman et al., 1974) and caffeine (Kelemen & Creeley,
2003). However, it is important to remember that, like context-dependent
memory, the effects of state-dependent memory are fairly small.
Additionally, almost all studies find that the participants who were sober
during both encoding and retrieval outperformed the other groups. To be

clear, drinking to excess is not an effective study strategy.
Mood-Dependent Memory
Just as similar contexts and chemical states can improve memory, studies
of mood-dependent memory  indicate that people remember better if their
mood at retrieval matches their mood during encoding (Bower, 1981; Eich &
Metcalfe, 1989). Volunteers in one study generated words while in a
pleasant or unpleasant mood, and then attempted to remember them in

either the same or a different mood. The results indicated that if the type
of mood at encoding and retrieval matched, then memory was superior.
However, changes in the intensity of the mood did not seem to have an
effect (Balch et al., 1999).
As with context- and state-dependent memory, mood-dependent memory
has some limitations (Eich et al., 1994). Mood has a very small effect on
recognition memory; it has much larger effects on recall-based tests.
Additionally, it produces larger effects when the participant must
generate both the to-be-remembered information (e.g., “an example of a

musical instrument is a g “) than if the stimuli are externally
generated (e.g., “remember this word: guitar”). In the first example, the
participant must put more of his own cognition into the encoding
process. Those cognitive processes become important retrieval cues
during a later recall-based test.
Although its effects are limited, mood-dependent memory does show that
a person’s emotional state can have an effect on encoding and retrieval.

As we shall see, the influence of emotion can be even more dramatic
when the stimuli themselves are emotional in nature.
Varieties of Encoding Specificity

Emotional Memories
When you think back to different times in your life, the events that first
come to mind are often emotional in nature, such as a wonderful birthday
party or the fear of starting at a new school. Emotion seems to act as a
highlighter for memories, making them easier to retrieve than neutral
memories. This is because emotional stimuli and events are generally

self-relevant and are associated with arousal responses such as increased
heart rate and sweating. In linking emotion and memory back to topics
discussed earlier in this module, it seems reasonable to assume that
emotion leads to deep processing of information.
The tendency for emotion to enhance our memory for events has been
demonstrated in a number of studies (LaBar & Cabeza, 2006; Levine &
Pizarro, 2004). For instance, in one experiment, undergraduate students
viewed a series of images that were emotionally negative (e.g., a snarling
dog), emotionally positive (e.g., a puppy), or neutral. These participants
rated the images in terms of their emotion (positive vs. negative), arousal
(high vs. low), and visual complexity. Two weeks later, the participants
were given a memory test for the images that they had rated. Recollection
was enhanced for negative and, to a lesser extent, positive images

(Ochsner, 2000). Similar results have been found with emotional words
(e.g., Kensinger & Corkin, 2003) and images depicting someone’s daily
activities (Laney et al., 2003). It seems that the emotion-related aspects of
stimuli do indeed improve memory, particularly for stimuli that trigger
negative emotions.
However, although it is intuitive to think that emotion will boost all forms
of memory, psychology researchers have found that emotion has fairly
specific effects. For example, people often focus their attention on the
emotional content of a scene (e.g., a snake). This information—which
typically forms the centre of the field of vision—is more likely to be
remembered than peripheral information (e.g., the flowers near the
snake). This phenomenon can take a more sinister turn in the courtroom.
Many eyewitnesses to crimes have shown reductions in memory accuracy
due to weapon focus —the tendency to focus on a weapon at the expense of
peripheral information, including the identity of the person holding the weapon
(Kramer et al., 1990; Loftus et al., 1987). Indeed, weapon focus provides
an example of how specific emotion’s effects on memory can be—
experiencing emotions such as fear or stress tend to impair a person’s
ability to encode new information unless that information is itself
emotional in nature (Shields et al., 2017). Research has also shown that
the memory enhancing effect of emotion is strongest after long (one hour
or more) rather than short delays (LaBar & Phelps, 1998; Sharot &
Phelps, 2004). This suggests that emotion’s largest influence is on the
process of consolidation, when information that has recently been

transferred from short-term memory (STM) into long-term memory
(LTM) is strengthened and made somewhat permanent. Emotion has less

of an effect on STM and on recognition memory; these types of memory
have much less variability than LTM, thus leaving less room for emotion
to influence accuracy levels.
Emotion can influence memory consolidation even if the stimuli
themselves are not emotional in nature. For example, in one study,

participants studied a list of words and were then randomly assigned to
view a video of dental surgery (the emotional condition) or the way to
brush your teeth effectively (presumably not the emotional condition).

Afterwards, the group members who viewed the surgery video
remembered more of the words (see Figure 7.19 ) (Nielson et al., 2005).
The researchers suggested that this effect was due to the emotional
arousal associated with seeing the dental surgery video. The hormones
released when one is experiencing intense emotions influence how

numerous brain areas work together to consolidate memories. Thus, the
physiological responses associated with emotions can lead to stronger

memory formation, even if the to-be-remembered information is not
directly related to the emotional event.
Figure 7.19 Does Emotion Improve Memory?
In the study by Nielson and colleagues (2005), both groups remembered

approximately the same percentage of words at pretest, and then watched
dentistry videos unrelated to the word lists. The group whose members
watched the more emotional video recalled more of the words in the end,
suggesting that the emotional arousal associated with the video helped
consolidate memory for the words.
Researchers have identified many of the brain areas that allow emotion to
influence memory (Phelps, 2004). Much of this relationship involves

structures in the temporal lobe of the brain: the hippocampus (the
structure associated with the encoding of long-term memories) and the

amygdala (a structure involved in emotional processing and responding).
Brain imaging shows that emotional memories often activate the
amygdala, whereas non-emotional memories generated at the same time
do not (Sharot et al., 2007). These studies have shown that the amygdala
can also alter the activity of several temporal-lobe areas that send input to
the hippocampus (Dolcos et al., 2004). As a result, the cells in these brain
regions fire together more than they normally would, which may lead to
more vivid memories (Kilpatrick & Cahill, 2003; Paz & Paré, 2013; see
Figure 7.20 ). However, this coordinated neural activity still does not
guarantee that all of the details of an experience will be remembered with
complete accuracy.
Figure 7.20 Emotion, Memory, and the Brain
Activity in the amygdala influences the activity of nearby regions in the

temporal lobes, increasing the degree to which they fire together. This
alters the type of input received by the hippocampus from regions of the
cortex (the outer part of the temporal lobes).
Flashbulb Memories
Can you remember where you were when Sidney Crosby scored the
“golden goal” to win the gold medal in the 2010 Olympics hockey final?
For non-hockey fans, that afternoon might simply have been a fun time
with friends and family, or perhaps was entirely forgettable if they
weren’t watching the game. But for others, the memory of that event
might take on a vivid, almost photographic, quality that feels like it will
remain perfectly etched in memory forever. Researchers have labelled
this type of intense and unique memory as being a flashbulb memory —
an extremely vivid and detailed memory about an event and the conditions
surrounding how one learned about the event (Brown & Kulik, 1977). (The
term flashbulb refers to the flash of an old-fashioned camera.) These
highly charged emotional memories typically involve recollections of
location, what was happening around oneself at the time of the event,
and the emotional reactions of self and others (Brown & Kulik, 1977).
Some may be personal memories, such as the memory of an automobile

accident. Other events are so widely felt that they seem to form flashbulb
memories for an entire society, such as the assassination of U.S. President
Kennedy in 1963 (Brown & Kulik, 1977), the explosion of the space
shuttles Challenger or Columbia (Kershaw et al., 2009; Neisser & Harsch,
1992), and the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 (Hirst et al., 2009;
Paradis et al., 2004). One defining feature of flashbulb memories is that
people are highly confident that their recollections are accurate. But is
this confidence warranted? Several studies (described in the Myths in

Mind  section that follows) suggest that we should give flashbulb
memories a second look.
Myths in Mind
The Accuracy of Flashbulb Memories
Although flashbulb memories are very detailed and individuals

reciting the details are very confident of their accuracy, it might
surprise you to learn that they are not necessarily more
accurate than many other memories (Hirst & Phelps, 2016). For
example, researchers examined how university students
remembered the September 11, 2001, attacks in comparison to
an emotional but more mundane event (Talarico & Rubin, 2003).
On September 12, 2001, they asked students to describe the
events surrounding the moment they heard about the attacks.
For a comparison event, they asked students to describe
something memorable from the preceding weekend, just two or
three days before the attacks. Over several months, the

students were asked to recall details of both events, and the
researchers compared the accuracy of the two memories.

Although their memory for both events was fading at the same
rate and they were equal in accuracy, the students

acknowledged the decline in memory only for the mundane
events. They continued to feel highly confident in their
memories surrounding the September 11 attacks, when, in fact,

those memories were not any more accurate. The same pattern
has been found for other major flashbulb events, such as the
end of World War II in Europe (Berntsen & Thomsen, 2005) and
the 1986 space shuttle Challenger explosion (Neisser & Harsch,

1992).
Watch Thinking Like a Psychologist Police Lineup
Forgetting and Remembering
Have you ever had the experience of studying intensely for an exam,
writing it, and then forgetting almost everything as soon as you walked
out of the exam room? This phenomenon is quite common, particularly if
you did all of your studying the night before (or morning of) the exam.
Forgetting information is probably a good thing, at least if it occurs in

moderation. We don’t need to remember every detail about every day of
our lives. Instead, we want to have some control over what we do
remember, thus allowing us to keep the useful information (e.g., terms for
an exam) and deleting the less useful information (e.g., the details of a
conversation you overheard on the bus). Of course, if we had that type of
control, there would be no need to study the intricacies of why we

remember and forget things. As you will see, this issue has been
researched extensively.
The Forgetting Curve: How Soon We Forget
...
It might seem odd that the first research on remembering was actually a
documentation of how quickly people forget. However, this approach
does make sense: Without knowledge of forgetting, it is difficult to

ascertain how well we can remember. This early work was conducted by
Hermann Ebbinghaus, whom many psychologists consider the founder of
memory research. Ebbinghaus (1885) was his own research participant in
his studies; these experiments involved him studying hundreds of
nonsense syllables for later memory tests. His rationale was that because
none of the syllables had any meaning, none of them should have been
easier to remember based on past experiences. Ebbinghaus studied lists
of these syllables until he could repeat them twice. He then tested himself
repeatedly—this is where his persistence really shows—day after day.
How soon do we forget? The data indicated that Ebbinghaus forgot about
half of a list within an hour. If Ebbinghaus had continued to forget at that
rate, the rest of the list should be lost after two hours, but that was not
the case. After a day, he could generally remember one-third of the
material, and he could still recall between 20% and 25% of the words after
a week. The graph in Figure 7.21  shows the basic pattern in his test
results, which has come to be known as a forgetting curve. The forgetting
curve  shows that most forgetting occurs right away, and that the rate of
forgetting eventually slows to the point where one does not seem to forget at all.
These results have stood the test of time. In addition to being replicated
as a lengthy case study (Murre & Dros, 2015), more than 200 articles have
been published in psychological journals that fit Ebbinghaus’s forgetting
curve (Rubin & Wenzel, 1996). In fact, one study demonstrated that this
forgetting curve applies to information learned over 50 years before (see
Figure 7.22 ; Bahrick, 1984).
Figure 7.21 Ebbinghaus's Forgetting Curve
Source: Memory: A Contribution to Experimental Psychology, Hermann Ebbinghaus (1885).

Translated by Henry A. Ruger & Clara E. Bussenius (1913). Originally published in New York by
Teachers College, Columbia University.
Figure 7.22 Bahrick's Long-Term Forgetting Curve

This forgetting curve depicts the rate at which adults forgot the foreign
language they took in high school. Compared to new graduates, those
tested three years later forgot much of what they learned. After that,
however, test scores stabilized, just as Ebbinghaus’s did a century earlier.
Source: From Bahrick, H. P. (1984). Semantic memory content in permastore: Fifty years of
memory for Spanish learned in school. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 113 (1), 1–29.
American Psychological Association.
Given that the forgetting curve has been documented in hundreds of

experiments, it seems inevitable that we will forget most of the
information that we attempt to encode. However, as you have

undoubtedly learned over the course of your studies, there are techniques
that will allow you to improve your memory so that the forgetting curve is
not as steep.
Mnemonics: Improving Your Memory Skills
At the beginning of this module, you read about the poet Simonides and
his ability to use mental imagery to improve his memory, thus allowing
him to identify the remains of people crushed under a collapsed roof.
Simonides was using a primitive type of mnemonic —a technique
intended to improve memory for specific information. As you will see in this
section, there are a number of different mnemonics that could be used to
improve memory, something that might be of interest to overwhelmed
students.
The technique that Simonides was using is known as the method of loci 
(pronounced “LOW-sigh”), a mnemonic that connects words to be
remembered to locations along a familiar path. To use the method of loci,
one must first imagine a route that has landmarks or easily identifiable
spaces—for example, the things you pass on your way from your home to
a friend’s house or the seats around a dinner table. Once the path is
identified, the learner takes a moment to visually relate the first word on
the list to the first location encountered. For example, if you need to
remember to pick up noodles, milk, and soap from the store and the first
thing you pass on the way to your friend’s house is an intersection with a
stop sign, you might picture the intersection littered with noodles, and so
on down the list. The image doesn’t need to be realistic—it just needs to
be distinct enough to be memorable. When it is time to recall the items,
the learner simply imagines the familiar drive, identifying the items to be
purchased as they relate to each location along the path.

However, the method of loci can become a bit cumbersome when a
person has to remember hundreds of different facts, as occurs for
university exams. A more practical mnemonic is the use of acronyms ,
pronounceable words whose letters represent the initials of an important phrase
or set of items. For example, the word “scuba” came into being with the
invention of the self-contained underwater breathing apparatus. “Roy G.
Biv” gives you the colours of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green,
blue, indigo, and violet. A related mnemonic, the first-letter technique ,
uses the first letters of a set of items to spell out words that form a sentence. It is
like an acronym, but it tends to be used when the first letters do not spell
a pronounceable word (see Figure 7.23 ). One well-known example is
“Every Good Boy Does Fine” for the five lines on the treble clef in musical
notation. Another is “My Very Excited Mother Just Showed Us Nine
Planets” for the nine planets in the solar system (Pluto is now a “dwarf
planet”). These types of mnemonic techniques work by organizing the
information into a pattern that is easier to remember than the original
information. By using these mnemonics, you can transform a lengthy
chapter about memory into a handful of words and sentences. That will
definitely make studying easier.
Figure 7.23 The First-Letter Technique
Students of biology often use mnemonics, such as this example of the

first-letter technique, which helps students remember the taxonomic
system.
The method of loci relies on mental imagery of a familiar location or path,
like this path that students take to class three times a week.
Lori Howard/Shutterstock
A number of mnemonic devices are based on the premise of dual coding.
Dual coding  occurs when information is stored in more than one form—such
as a verbal description and a visual image, or a description and a sound—
and it regularly produces stronger memories than the use of one form
alone (Clark & Paivio, 1991). Dual coding leads to deeper, as opposed to
shallow, processing; this is because the additional sensory
representations require some effort to create and produce a larger

number of memory associations. This leads to a greater number of
potential retrieval cues that can be accessed later. For example, most
children growing up in North America learned the alphabet with the help
of a song. In fact, even adults find themselves humming portions of that

song when alphabetizing documents (you’ll probably do it too if asked
which letter comes after “k”). Both the visual “A-B-C-D” and the musical
“eh-bee-see-dee” are encoded together, making memory easier than if
you were simply given visual information to remember. The simplest
explanation for the dual-coding advantage is that twice as much

information is stored.
The application of mnemonic strategies can be found in restaurants
where servers are not allowed to write out orders. These servers use a
variety of the techniques discussed in this chapter. Some use chunking

strategies, such as remembering soft drinks for a group of three
customers, and cocktails for the other four. They also use the method of
loci to link faces with positions at the table. In one study, a waiter was
able to recall as many as 20 dinner orders (Ericsson & Polson, 1988). He
used the method of loci by linking food type (starch, beef, or fish) with a
table location, and he used acronyms to help with encoding salad
dressing choices. Thus RaVoSe for a party of three would be ranch,

vinegar and oil, and sesame. Servers, as well as memory researchers, will
tell you that the worst thing restaurant patrons can do is switch seats, as it
completely disrupts the mnemonic devices being used to remember the
order (Bekinschtein et al., 2008).
While these mnemonic devices can help with rote memorization, they
may not necessarily improve your understanding of material. Researchers
have begun to examine other memory boosters that may offer more
benefits for understanding and retaining information. For example, some

research has shown the advantages of desirable difficulties ‒techniques
that make studying slower and more effortful, but result in better overall
remembering. For instance, in Module 1.1  you read about the benefits of
spreading out study sessions rather than cramming for an exam in one
long session (spaced vs. massed learning). When you space out your
sessions, it is likely that you will forget some of the items from the
previous study session (Smolen et al., 2016). As a result, you’ll reread
those notes and study them in more depth, a behaviour that will improve
your chances of remembering the information later. Studying material in

varying orders has a similar effect.
Another popular approach to studying is to use flashcards. Although
psychologists have begun to understand how this process benefits

students, they also have identified a few mistakes students frequently
make when using flashcards. The first thing to remember is the spacing
effect. When studying with flashcards, it is better to use one big stack
rather than several smaller stacks; using the entire deck helps take
advantage of the effect of spacing the cards. A second potential problem
is the fact that students become overconfident and drop flashcards as
soon as they believe they have learned the material. In reality, doing so
seems to reduce the benefits of overlearning the material (making it more

difficult to forget) and spacing out cards in the deck (Kornell, 2009;
Kornell & Bjork, 2007). No matter how you study, you should take
advantage of the testing effect , the finding that taking practice tests can
improve exam performance, even without additional studying. In fact,

researchers have directly compared testing to additional studying and
have found that, in some cases, testing actually improves memory more
(Roediger et al., 2010). That’s why psychology texts such as this one
include quizzes and online tests.
Module 7.2 Summary
7.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to forgetting,

encoding, and retrieval.
Review Module 7.2
7.2b Understand . . . how the type of cognitive processing

employed can affect the chances of remembering what you
encounter.
Generally speaking, deeper processing makes things more likely to be
remembered. Greater depth of processing may be achieved by
elaborating on the meaning of the information, through increased
emotional content, and through coding in images and sounds
simultaneously.
7.2c Apply . . . what you have learned to improve your ability to

memorize information.
Rather than simply memorizing the different types of mnemonics, try the
following activity to see examples of these techniques in action. Doing so
will allow you to more deeply encode this information.
Apply Activity What You Have Learned to Improve Your Ability to Memorize Information
7.2d Analyze . . . whether emotional memories are more

accurate than non-emotional ones.
Both personal experiences and controlled laboratory studies demonstrate
that emotion enhances memory. However, as we learned in the case of
flashbulb memories, even memories for details of significant events

decline over time, although confidence in memory accuracy typically
remains very high.

Module 7.3 Constructing and
Reconstructing Memories
RiceWithSugar/Shutterstock.com
7.3a Know . . . the key terminology used in discussing how memories
are organized and constructed.
7.3b Understand . . . how schemas serve as frameworks for encoding
and constructing memories.
7.3c Understand . . . how psychologists can produce false memories
in the laboratory.
7.3d Apply . . . what you have learned to judge the reliability of
eyewitness testimony.
7.3e Analyze . . . the arguments in the “recovered memory” debate.
In 1992, the Saskatchewan town of Martensville was rocked by a sex
abuse scandal. A complaint about a suspicious diaper rash from a
parent of a toddler attending a local daycare led to a police

investigation. After repeated and extensive interviewing, the children
claimed to remember astonishing things including extensive sexual
abuse, human sacrifice, a “Devil Church,” and a Satanic cult known as
The Brotherhood of the Ram. The owners of the daycare along with
several other individuals—including five police officers—were

eventually arrested. However, a closer examination of the police
investigation identified some serious problems. Expert witnesses noted
that the questions used in the interviews were leading and suggestive,
with the police officers providing hints about the answers they wanted
to hear (Jenish, 1994). Upon further examination, many charges were

dropped. In fact, only one of the accused was convicted of a crime
(molestation). The Saskatchewan government has since paid out

millions of dollars to the other accused individuals whose lives were
affected by these investigations.
While certainly well-meaning, the investigators—who were not trained
to interview child witnesses—forgot a critical piece of information:

Memories are not like photographs perfectly depicting an event from
our past. Instead, they are reconstructed each time we retrieve them,
and can therefore be altered by a number of factors.
The true story that opens this module demonstrates that our memories
are not perfect. In a less disturbing example, cognitive psychologist and

renowned memory researcher Ulric Neisser once recounted what he was
doing on December 7, 1941, the day Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. Neisser
was sitting in the living room listening to a baseball game on the radio
when the program was interrupted with the news (Neisser, 2000). Or was
he? He had certainly constructed a very distinct memory for this
emotional event, but something must have gone wrong. Baseball season
does not last through December. As this example demonstrates, even
memory researchers are prone to misremembering. In this module we

will examine how such misremembering occurs and what it says about
how memories are constructed . . . and reconstructed.
How Memories Are Organized and
Constructed
Think about the last time you read a novel or watched a film. What do
you recall about the story? If you have a typical memory, you will forget
the proper names of locations and characters quickly, but you will be able
to remember the basic plot for a very long time (Squire, 1989; Stanhope
et al., 1993). The plot may be referred to as the gist of the story and it
impacts us much more than characters’ names, which are often just
details. As it turns out, much of the way we store memories depends on
our tendency to remember the gist of things.

The Schema: An Active Organization
Process
The gist of a story gives us “the big picture,” or a general structure for the
memory; details can be added around that structure. Gist is often
influenced by schemas , organized clusters of memories that constitute a

person’s knowledge or beliefs about events, objects, and ideas. Whenever we
encounter familiar events or objects, these schemas become active and
affect what we expect, what we pay attention to, and what we remember.
Because we use these patterns automatically, it may be difficult to
understand what they are, even though we use them throughout our
lives. Here is an example; read the following passage through one time:
The procedure is quite simple. First, you arrange things into different groups. Of course, one
pile may be sufficient, depending on how much there is to do. If you have to go somewhere
else due to lack of facilities, that is the next step; otherwise, you are pretty well set. It is
important not to overdo things. That is, it is better to do too few things at once than too many.
At first the whole procedure will seem complicated. Soon, however, it will become just
another facet of life. After the procedure is completed, one arranges the materials into
different groups again. Then they can be put into their appropriate places. Eventually they will
be used once more, and the whole cycle will have to be repeated. (Bransford & Johnson,
1973)
At this point, if you were to write down the details of the paragraph solely
from memory, how well do you think you would do? Most people do not
have high expectations for themselves, but they would blame it on how
vague the paragraph seems. Now, what if we tell you the passage is about
doing laundry? If you read the paragraph a second time, you should see
that it is easier to understand, as well as to remember. The reason for this
sudden improvement in memory is that when you were told the
paragraph was about doing laundry, it activated your laundry schema—
your personal collection of concepts and memories about this fun-filled
chore. Once your schema was activated, you were prepared to make
sense of the story and could likely fill in the gaps of your memory for the
passage with stored knowledge from your schema in long-term memory
(LTM).
An important aspect of schema-driven processing has to do with how we

process information about ourselves. Schemas about the self are based on
past experiences and are used to organize the encoding of self-relevant
information in a way that can influence our responses (Markus, 1977).
But self-schemas may serve an additional role during development. Some
evidence suggests that the ability to form schemas, particularly self-
schemas, plays a critical role in our ability to form memories about our
lives.
How Schemas Influence Memory
Although schemas are used to explain memory, they can be used
to explain many other phenomena as well, such as the way we

perceive, remember, and think about people and situations. In
each case, schemas provide a ready-made structure that allows us
to process new information more quickly than we could without
this mental shortcut. This makes schemas extremely useful. But

are they accurate?
What do we know about schemas?

Schemas are involved in all three stages of memory. First, they
guide what we attend to during encoding. In the laundry
example, your schema likely involves focusing attention on how
the clothes are grouped and whether you have detergent and a
washing machine available. Second, schemas influence how
stored memories are organized. Information that is related, such
as detergent and washing machine, will have stronger
connections in the brain than unrelated items such as detergent
and cat. This method of storage also influences how memories

are retrieved. Different parts of a schema can serve as cues when
it comes time to retrieve information. So, if you think about dirty
clothes and a washing machine, these items serve as retrieval
cues to allow you to remember the word detergent. However,

although schemas generally serve to aid memory, they can also
sometimes cause us to fill in the gaps in our memories with
information that is not entirely accurate.
How can science explain schemas?

Research indicates that we remember events using constructive
memory , a process by which we first recall a generalized schema and
then add in specific details (Scoboria et al., 2006; Silva et al., 2006).
Where do these schemas come from? They appear to be products
of culture and experience (e.g., Ross & Wang, 2010). For
example, individuals within a culture tend to have schemas
related to gender roles—men and women are each assumed to
engage in certain jobs and to behave in certain ways (e.g.,
assuming that men will be the ones who do house repairs). Even
if an individual realizes that these schemas are not 100% accurate
(in fact, they can be far from accurate in some cases), they are
likely to engage in schematic processing when having difficulty
remembering something specific.
A study by Heather Kleider and her associates (2008)
demonstrates how schemas influence memory quite well. These

investigators had research participants view photographs of a
handyman engaged in schema-consistent behaviour (e.g.,

working on plumbing) as well as schema-inconsistent tasks (e.g.,
folding a baby’s clothing). Participants also viewed images of a

stay-at-home mother performing schema-consistent (e.g., feeding
a baby) and schema-inconsistent (e.g., hammering a nail) tasks.

Immediately after viewing the photographs, participants were
quite successful at remembering correctly who had performed

what actions. However, after two days, what types of memory
mistakes do you think the researchers found? As you can see

from Figure 7.24 , individuals began making mistakes, and these
mistakes were consistent with gender schemas.
Figure 7.24 Schemas Affect How We Encode and Remember
In this study, memory was accurate when tested immediately, as

shown by the small proportion of errors on the “immediate” side
of the graph. After two days, however, participants
misremembered seeing the schema-inconsistent tasks in line with
stereotypes. For example, they misremembered the stay-at-home
mother stirring cake batter even if they had actually seen the
handyman doing it.
Source: Data from Kleider, H., Pezdek, K., Goldinger, S., & Kirk, A. (2008). Schema–
driven source misattribution errors: Remembering the expected from a witnessed
event. Applied Cognitive Psychology, 22(1), 1–20.
Can we critically evaluate the concept of a

schema?
The concept of a schema is certainly useful in describing our
methods of mental organization, but some psychologists remain

skeptical of its validity. After all, you cannot record brain activity
and expect to see a particular schema, and individuals generally

are not aware that they are using schematic processing. However,
recent brain imaging studies suggest that schemas do exist and

likely help with the process of memory consolidation (Wang &
Morris, 2010). Both encoding and retrieving information that was
consistent with a schema learned during an experiment led to
greater activity in a network involving parts of the medial

temporal lobes (including the hippocampus) and the frontal lobes
(van Kesteren, Fernandez, et al., 2010; van Kesteren, Rijpkema, et
al., 2010; see Figure 7.25 ). Additionally, adding new

information to an existing schema actually changes the
expression of genes in the frontal lobes in order to strengthen
connections between this region and the hippocampus (Tse et al.,
2011). Thus, while we cannot identify the neural correlates for a

specific schema like that for doing laundry, it is possible to see
how schemas influence brain activity while new information is
encoded and entered into the structure of our LTM.
Figure 7.25 A Brain Network Related to Processing Schemas
Brain imaging data suggest that encoding information consistent

with a schema activates a network involving structures in the
medial temporal lobe (including our friend, the hippocampus)
and parts of the frontal lobes.
Source: Figure 5 from van Kesteren et al., (2013), Trends in Neuroscience, p. 2358.
Research into the influence of schemas on memory highlights the
fact that memory retrieval is an active process. Our memories are
not photographs or mental videos that perfectly depict our

previous experiences. Rather, we incorporate our own
expectations and experiences into memory encoding, storage,
and retrieval. In many cases, these schemas make our memory
more efficient, as in the laundry example discussed earlier.
However, it is also important to remember that our schemas also

contain our own biases about different people, situations, and
events. Remembering that our memories might be inaccurate will
make it more likely that we will seek additional evidence from
other sources (e.g., friends, relatives, textbooks). So, in addition

to being critical consumers of information from outside sources,
we should be critical consumers of information from our own
memories as well.
Schemas and the Self
Think back to the earliest memory you can recall: How old were you? It is
likely that you do not have any personal or autobiographical memories from
before your third birthday, a phenomenon known as infantile amnesia .
Research indicates that self-schemas begin to develop around the ages of

18 to 24 months (Howe, 2003). Without these schemas, it is difficult and
maybe even impossible to organize and encode memories about the self.
This is not a universal phenomenon, however. Other researchers taking a
cross-cultural perspective have found that a sense of self emerges earlier
among European Americans than among people living in eastern Asia,

which correlates with earlier ages of first memories among European
Americans (Fivush & Nelson, 2004; Ross & Wang, 2010). Why might this
difference arise? The European American emphasis on developing a sense
of self encourages thinking about personal experiences, which increases
the likelihood that personal events—such as your third birthday party

with that scary drunken clown or being chased by a dog—will be
remembered. In contrast, Asian cultures tend to emphasize social
harmony and collectiveness over individualism, resulting in a schema that
is more socially integrated than in Westerners. This may explain the
slightly later onset of autobiographical memory in Asian children. It will
be interesting to see if this cultural difference changes as Asian cultures
become more “Westernized.”

Do these findings mean that we could get infants to remember early life
events by teaching them to talk about themselves at an early age? This is
not likely. The brains of young children are still developing, so the neural
architecture necessary to form stable schemas is not yet in place
(Newcombe et al., 2000).
The effects of self-schemas are not limited to our childhoods. Clinical
psychology researchers have become particularly concerned with the
ways in which these self-schemas may contribute to psychological
problems. Consider a person with clinical depression—a condition that

involves negative emotion, lack of energy, self-doubt, and self-blame. An
individual with depression is likely to have a very negative self-schema,
which means that they will pay attention to things that are consistent
with the depressive symptoms, and will be more likely to recall events
and feelings that are consistent with this schema. Thus the schema
contributes to a pattern of thinking and focusing on negative thoughts.
Fortunately, researchers have been able to target these schemas in
psychotherapy. The evidence shows that by changing their self-schema,
individuals are better able to recover from even very serious bouts of
depression (Dozois et al., 2009).
Memory Reconstruction
You’ve all heard the cliché, “You are what you eat.” But it’s also becoming
increasingly clear to psychologists that “You are what you remember”
(Wilson & Ross, 2003). As you read earlier in this module, our memories
are organized to a large degree by our schemas, including self-schemas.
There is no guarantee, however, that these schemas are 100% accurate. In

fact, different motivations can influence which schemas are accessible to
us in a given moment, thereby biasing our memory reconstruction. As a
result of these motivational influences, the past that we remember is
actually influenced by our mental state and by our view of ourselves in
the present (Albert, 1977).
This type of biasing effect was nicely demonstrated in a study conducted
by psychologists at Concordia University and the University of Waterloo
(Conway & Ross, 1984). The researchers had one group of participants
complete a study skills course while another group remained on a waiting
list. The course itself proved completely ineffective, at least in improving
study skills. The course did have an interesting effect on memory,
however. Participants who completed the study course rated their
previous study skills lower than they had rated them prior to taking the
course; participants on the waiting list rated their study skills as being
unchanged. Therefore, the study course participants revised their
memories of their past abilities in a way that allowed them to feel as
though they benefited from the course.

The results of such studies demonstrate that our memories are not stable,
but instead change over time. Indeed, we have all experienced a false
memory , remembering events that did not occur, or incorrectly recalling
details of an event. It is important to remember that these incorrect
memories do not necessarily indicate a dysfunction of memory, but rather
reflect normal memory processes—which are inherently imperfect. As you
read in the discussion of schemas, the elements that comprise a memory
must be reconstructed each time that memory is retrieved. This
reconstruction is influenced by the demands of the current situation.
Psychologists have identified several ways in which our memories can be

biased, and have explored how these biases can have many real-world
implications, such as in the legal system.

The Perils of Eyewitness Testimony
Have you ever witnessed a crime or even a minor traffic accident? When
asked later about what you witnessed, how accurate were your reports?
Most of us feel quite confident in our ability to retrieve this type of
information. However, psychologists have shown that a number of minor
factors can dramatically influence the details of our “memories.”
In one classic study, Elizabeth Loftus and John Palmer (1974) showed
undergraduate research participants film clips of traffic accidents.
Participants were asked to write down a description of what they had
seen, and were then asked a specific question: “About how fast were the
cars going when they smashed into each other?” However, the exact
wording of this question varied across experimental conditions. For some
participants, the word smashed was replaced by collided, bumped,
contacted, or hit. The results of the study were stunning—simply changing
one verb in the sentence produced large differences in the estimated

speed of the vehicles (see Figure 7.26 ). At one extreme, the word
smashed led to an estimate of 65.2 km/h. At the low end of the spectrum,
the word contacted led to estimates of 51.2 km/h. So, changing the verb
altered the remembered speed of the vehicles by 14 km/h. In a follow-up
study, Loftus and Palmer also found that participants in the “smashed”
condition were more likely to insert false details such as the presence of
broken glass into their accident reports. This study was a powerful
demonstration of the effect of question wording on memory retrieval and

provided police with important information about the need for caution
when questioning witnesses.
Figure 7.26 The Power of a Word
Simply changing the wording of a question altered participants’

recollections of a filmed traffic accident. All participants viewed the same
filmed traffic accidents and all participants received the identical question
with the exception of one key verb: smashed, collided, bumped, hit, or
contacted.
Source: Based on data from Loftus, E. F., & Palmer, J. C. (1974). Reconstruction of automobile
destruction: An example of the interaction between language and memory. Journal of Verbal
Learning and Verbal Behavior, 13, 585–589 (p. 586).
Another factor that can alter memories of an event—and that has
implications for the legal system—is the information that is encoded after
the event has occurred, such as rumours, news reports, or hearing about
other people’s perceptions of the event. If such information was accurate,
it could improve people’s memories; however, this type of information is

not always accurate, which explains why jury members are asked to avoid
reading about or watching TV reports related to the case with which they
are involved. Psychologists have shown that this legal procedure is a wise
one, as a number of studies have demonstrated the misinformation

effect , when information occurring after an event becomes part of the memory
for that event. In the original studies of this topic (Loftus, 1975),
researchers attempted to use the misinformation effect to change the
details of people’s memories. For example, in one study, students viewed
a videotape of a staged car crash. In the experimental conditions,
participants were asked about an object that was not in the video, such as
a yield sign (when in fact the scene had contained a stop sign). Later,
when asked if they had seen a yield sign, participants in the experimental
group were likely to say yes. As this experiment demonstrates, you can
change the details of a memory by asking a leading question.
Participants in one study viewed the top photo and later were asked
about the “yield sign,” even though they saw a stop sign. This small bit of
misinformation was enough to get many participants to falsely remember
seeing a yield sign. Similarly, participants who first viewed the bottom
photo could be led to misremember seeing a stop sign with a single
misleading question.
Dr. Elizabeth Loftus
#Psych
“Fake News” and Inaccurate Social Media Information
When we think of “fake news,” we often imagine orange-
skinned politicians shaking their little fists at reporters who are

asking tough questions. In reality, this misinformation—which
often appears on social media websites such as Twitter or
Facebook (as well as on more difficult to classify sites such as
Reddit and Imgur)—is designed to alter opinions about topics

ranging from health decisions (Waszak et al., 2018) to voting
preferences (Flynn et al., 2017). It might initially seem like “fake
news” shouldn’t be a problem because readers or viewers
should be able to quickly identify that information as being

false. Unfortunately, a study of almost 8,000 U.S. students
found that people are not very good at separating real news
from fake news (Wineburg et al., 2016). The fact that news from
a reputable source and “fake news” posted on Twitter is
perceived as equivalent is problematic because, as you just

read, misinformation can reduce the accuracy of our memories
for important events.
“Fake news” can influence our memory in at least two ways.

First, because this information is often presented in an
emotionally arousing way (i.e., “clickbait”), it is easy to encode
and is likely to be remembered. When we are encountering

those topics later on, this emotional information can seem
more familiar than boring facts. Psychology research shows
that people are more likely to accept information that seems
familiar (Swire et al., 2017). Additionally, people often forget the

context in which they learned a piece of information. Source
memory , the memory for how or where information was
initially acquired, is an important part of our ability to detect
misinformation (Johnson et al., 1993). It is more difficult to
remember the source of information when there are several

people (or social media posts) presenting different information
about the same topic.
Although the situation seems hopeless, several of the major

social media platforms are attempting to fight against fake
news. That said, we should all be vigilant and should use our
critical-thinking skills when dealing with information we find on

the internet.
Children as Eyewitnesses
Children are particularly susceptible to misinformation effects and to the
effects of a question’s wording (Bruck & Ceci, 1999). In one study, five-
and six-year-old children watched a janitor (really an actor) named
Chester as he cleaned some dolls and other toys in a playroom. For half of
the children, his behaviour was innocent and simply involved him
cleaning the toys. For the other children, Chester’s behaviour seemed
abusive and involved him treating the toys roughly. The children were
later questioned by two interviewers who were (1) accusatory (implying
that Chester had been playing with the dolls when he should have been
working), (2) innocent (implying that Chester was simply cleaning the
dolls), or (3) neutral (not implying anything about Chester’s behaviour).
When the interviewer’s tone matched what the children saw, such as
innocent questioning about Chester when he treated the toys nicely or
accusatory questioning when Chester was rough with the toys, the
children’s reports of the behaviour were quite accurate. However, when

the interview technique did not match the observed behaviour (e.g.,
accusatory questioning when Chester had simply cleaned the toys), the
children’s responses matched the interviewer’s tone. In other words, the
tone of the interviewer altered the details of the information that the
children retrieved and reported (Thompson et al., 1997).
Similar to adults, children are also dependent on schemas. In one study,
researchers told children at school about their clumsy friend Sam Stone.
On numerous occasions, they told funny stories about Sam’s life,

including the times he broke a Barbie doll and tore a sweater. Later, the
children met “Sam Stone.” During his time in the classroom, he did not
perform a single clumsy act. The following day, the teacher showed the
children a torn book and a dirty teddy bear, but did not link Sam to these
damaged items. When questioned a few weeks later, however, many of
the three- and four-year-old children reported that Sam Stone had ruined
these objects. Some even claimed to have witnessed these acts
themselves (Leichtman & Ceci, 1995). These findings should not lead us
to ignore the eyewitness testimony of children; but they should also
remind us (and investigators) that memories—particularly those of

children—are not stable and unchanging like a photograph. This research
highlights how extremely important it is for legal professionals, such as
the police, to practise investigative techniques that avoid biasing
witnesses to crimes. Failure to do so could easily result in innocent people
being convicted of crimes they did not commit or, conversely, guilty
people being set free due to “reasonable doubt” because of questionable
Psych@
Court: Is Eyewitness Testimony Reliable?
While trying to identify the individual responsible for a crime,

investigators often present a lineup of a series of individuals
(either in person or in photographs) and ask the eyewitness to
identify the suspect. Given the constructive nature of memory,

it should come as no surprise to hear that an eyewitness gets it
wrong from time to time. The consequences of this kind of

wrongful conviction are dire—an innocent person may go to jail
while a potentially dangerous person stays free.

How can the science of memory improve this process? Here
are the six main suggestions for reforming eyewitness

identification procedures:
1. Employ double-blind procedures. Elsewhere in this book, we

discussed how double-blind procedures help reduce
experimenter bias. Similarly, a double-blind lineup (i.e., the

investigator in the room with the eyewitness has no
knowledge of which person is the actual suspect) can

prevent an investigator from biasing an eyewitness, either
intentionally or accidentally.
2. Use appropriate instructions. For example, the investigator

should include the statement, “The suspect might not be
present in the lineup.” Eyewitnesses often assume the guilty

person is in the lineup, so they are likely to choose a close
match. This risk can be greatly reduced by instructing the

eyewitness that the correct answer may be “none of the
above.”
3. Compose the lineup carefully. The lineup should include
individuals who match the eyewitness’s description of the

perpetrator, not the investigator’s beliefs about the suspect.
4. Use sequential lineups. When an entire lineup is shown
simultaneously, this may encourage the witness to assume

one of the people is guilty, so they choose the best
candidate. If the people in the lineup are presented one at a

time, witnesses are less likely to pick out an incorrect
suspect because they are willing to consider the next

person in the sequence.
5. Require confidence statements. Eyewitness confidence can

change as a result of an investigator’s response, or simply
by seeing the same suspect in multiple lineups, neither of

which make the testimony any more accurate. Therefore,
confidence statements should be taken in the witness’s own
words after an identification is made.

6. Record the procedures. Eyewitness researchers have
identified at least a dozen specific things that can go wrong

during identification procedures. By recording these
procedures, expert witnesses can evaluate the reliability of
testimony during hearings.
When these procedures are followed, eyewitness testimony can

provide useful—and accurate—information (Wixted et al., 2018).
Fortunately, many attorneys and police officers have consulted
with memory researchers in order to improve the procedures

used when questioning eyewitnesses. In the past decade,
Canadian legal experts produced the Report of the
Federal/Provincial/Territorial Heads of Prosecutions
Subcommittee on the Prevention of Wrongful Convictions

(Public Prosecution Service of Canada, 2011). This 233-page
document presents recommendations to the legal community
for the use of eyewitness testimony, among other investigative
practices, and highlights the need for testimony from experts,
including psychologists.
Watch Thinking Like a Psychologist: Police Lineup

Imagination and False Memories
Because our memories are not always as accurate as we would like them
to be, people use a number of techniques to try to help themselves
retrieve information. One of these techniques is to imagine the situation
that you are trying, but failing, to remember. However, although this
strategy seems logical at first, the results of several studies suggest that
the retrieved memories may not be very accurate. Research indicates that
repeatedly imagining an action such as breaking a toothpick makes it very
difficult for people to remember whether or not they performed that
action (Goff & Roediger, 1998). In fact, imagining events can often lead to
imagination inflation , the increased confidence in a false memory of an

event following repeated imagination of the event. The more readily and
clearly we can imagine events, the more certain we are that the memories
are accurate.
To study this effect, researchers created a list of events that may or may
not have happened to the individuals in their study (e.g., got in trouble
for falsely calling 911, found a $10 bill in a parking lot). The volunteers
were first asked to rate their confidence that the event happened. In
sessions held over a period of days, participants were asked to imagine
these events, until finally they were asked to rate their confidence again.
For each item they were asked to imagine, repeated imagination inflated
their confidence in the memory of the event even if they initially reported
that the event had not occurred (Garry et al., 1996; Garry & Polaschek,
2000).
Importantly, imagination inflation is very similar to guided imagery , a
technique used by some clinicians (and some police investigators) to help people
recover details of events that they are unable to remember. It involves a guide
giving instructions to participants to imagine certain events. Like the
misinformation effect, guided imagery can be used to alter memories for
actual events; it can also create entirely false memories. In other words,
attempting to imagine an event can implant new—and false—events into a
person’s memory.
Creating False Memories in the Laboratory
Given that several research studies have shown that false memories are
fairly easy to create, and given that such memories can have dramatic and
tragic consequences when they appear in clinical or legal settings, it
became important for researchers to develop techniques that would allow
them to study false memories in more detail. The first of these techniques
to be used was the Deese-Roediger-McDermott (DRM) paradigm (see
Figure 7.27 ). In the DRM procedure , participants study a list of highly
related words called semantic associates (which means they are associated
by meaning). The word that would be the most obvious member of the
list just happens to be missing. This missing word is called the critical lure.
What happens when the participants are given a memory test? A
significant proportion of participants remember the critical lure, even
though it never appeared on the list (Deese, 1959; Roediger &
McDermott, 1995). When individuals recall the critical lure, it is called an
intrusion, because a false memory is sneaking into an existing memory.
Figure 7.27 A Sample Word List and Its Critical Lure for the DRM Procedure
The words on the left side are all closely related to the word bread—but
bread does not actually appear on the list. People who study this list of
words are very likely to misremember that bread was present.
Source: From Roediger, H., & McDermott, K. (1995). Creating false memories: Remembering
words not presented in lists. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory, and Cognition, 21,
803–814. American Psychological Association.
The fact that people make intrusion errors is not particularly surprising.
However, the strength of the effect is astonishing. In routine studies, the
DRM lures as many as 70% of the participants. The most obvious way to
reduce this effect would be to simply explain the DRM procedure and
warn participants that intrusions may occur. Although this approach has
proved effective in reducing intrusions, false memories still occur (Gallo
et al., 1997). Obviously, intrusions are very difficult to prevent, but not
because memory is prone to mistakes. In fact, memory is generally
accurate and extremely efficient, given the millions of bits of information

we encounter every day. Instead, the DRM effect reflects the fact that
normal memory processes are constructive.
A second method of creating false memories in the laboratory comes from
doctored photographs or videos. For instance, researchers at the

University of Victoria and their colleagues exposed undergraduate
research participants to altered photographs showing the participant and

their parent taking a ride on a hot-air balloon, an event that did not
actually occur (Wade et al., 2002). For this type of experiment to work,
the volunteers in the study had to recruit the help of their family. Their
parents provided pictures of the participant from early childhood, along
with an explanation of the event, the location, and the people and objects
in the photo. The researchers took one of the pictures and digitally cut
and pasted it into a balloon ride. On three occasions the participants went
through the set of pictures, the true originals plus the doctored photo, in a
structured interview process (the kind designed to help police get more
details from eyewitnesses). By the end of the third session, half the
participants had some memory for the balloon ride event, even though it
never occurred (Wade et al., 2002).
Photographic images such as the ones used in the hot-air balloon study
leave it to the participant to fill in the gaps as to what “happened” on their
balloon ride. Other researchers have gone so far as to create false

videotaped evidence of an event (Nash, Wade et al., 2009). For this
method, a volunteer was videotaped watching a graduate student perform

an action. The researchers also videotaped the graduate student
performing an additional action that the volunteer did not witness. The
videos were then spliced together to show the volunteer watching an

event that she, in reality, did not actually see. Now imagine you were
shown a video of yourself watching an action you had not seen before—
would you believe it? In fact, a significant portion of the individuals did
form memories of the events they had never witnessed. These

experiments demonstrate how powerful images can be in creating false
memories, and highlight some of the perils of using guided imagery

techniques in clinical and legal settings.
In one study of false memory, true photos were obtained from volunteers’
families (top), and were edited to look like a balloon ride (bottom). About
half of the volunteers in this study came to recall some details of an event
that never happened to them.
Courtesy of K. Wade, M. Garry, J. Read, and S. Lindsay.

The Danger of False Remembering
In the early 1990s, Beth Rutherford sought the help of her church
counsellor to deal with personal issues. During their sessions, the
counsellor managed to convince her that her father, a minister, had raped
her. The memory was further elaborated so that she remembered
becoming pregnant and that her father had forced her to undergo an
abortion using a coat hanger. You can imagine what kind of effects this
had on the family. Her father had little choice but to resign from his
position, and his reputation was left in shambles. Although it can be
difficult to prove some false memories, this incident is particularly
disturbing because it could have been supported by medical evidence.

When a medical investigation was finally conducted, absolutely no
evidence was found that Beth had ever been raped or that she had ever
been pregnant (Loftus, 1997).
In this example, Beth’s therapist believed that Beth had experienced a

recovered memory , a memory of a traumatic event that is suddenly
recovered after blocking the memory of that event for a long period of time, often
many years. However, the topic of recovered memories is a contentious
one. In the past three decades, psychologists have performed a great deal
of research investigating whether it is possible to suppress a memory and
whether there are research tools available to help us distinguish between
memories that are accurate and those that are not.

This idea that we suppress traumatic memories is popularly known as
repression from Freudian psychoanalysis (see Module 12.3 ). According
to this idea, a repressed memory could still affect other psychological
processes, leading people to suffer in other ways such as experiencing
depression. This school of thought suggests that if a repressed memory
can be recovered, then a patient can find ways to cope with the trauma.
Some therapists espouse this view and use techniques such as hypnosis
and guided imagery to try to unearth repressed memories. However,
given the research we have discussed about how false memories can be
implanted through these types of techniques, there is an obvious danger

in the use of these methods.
Can we suppress our memories of traumatic life events? As it turns out, it
is possible, although it is difficult to determine how common it is. In one
survey study, researchers examined the testimony of people who had
been imprisoned in Camp Erika, a Nazi concentration camp in The
Netherlands, in the early 1940s (Wagenaar & Groeneweg, 1990). Most of
the prisoners were able to provide detailed information about their time
in the concentration camp, but a minority of prisoners did not remember

many emotional events during their imprisonment, including the names
and appearances of people who tortured them and the fact that they had
even witnessed murders. But being able to suppress a horrific memory is
very different from then recovering that memory years later.
Recovered memories, like many other types of long-term memory, are

difficult to study because one can rarely determine if they are true or
false. This uncertainty has led to the recovered memory controversy , a

heated debate among psychologists about the validity of recovered memories
(Davis & Loftus, 2009). On one side of the controversy are some clinical
mental health workers (although certainly not the majority) who regularly
attempt to recover memories they suspect have been repressed. On the
opposing side are the many psychologists who point out that the
techniques that might help “recover” a memory bear a striking
resemblance to those that are used to create false memories in laboratory
research; they often involve instructions to remember, attempts to form

images, and social reinforcement for reporting memories (Spanos et al.,
1994). How can this disagreement be resolved?
One method is to use brain imaging to differentiate true and false

memories. Psychologists have found that when people recount
information that is true, the visual and other sensory areas of the brain
become more active. When revealing falsely remembered information,

these same individuals have much less activity in the sensory regions—
the brain is not drawing on mental imagery because it was not there in
the first place (Dennis et al., 2012; Stark et al., 2010). Interestingly, these
brain results do not always map onto the participants’ conscious

memories of what they had seen. So, this method might be able to
distinguish between true and false memories better than the participant
himself (Johnson et al., 2012). However, although these neuroimaging
results are promising, these studies did not use stimuli that were as
emotional as the recovered memories patients report. Therefore, as with
most areas of psychology, much more research is needed in this
controversial area.
Module 7.3 Summary
7.3a Know . . . the key terminology used in discussing how

memories are organized and constructed.
Review Module 7.3
7.3b Understand . . . how schemas serve as frameworks for

encoding and constructing memories.
Schemas guide our attention, telling us what to expect in certain
circumstances. They organize long-term memories and provide us with

cues when it comes time to retrieve those memories.
7.3c Understand . . . how psychologists can produce false

memories in the laboratory.
Psychologists have found that a number of factors contribute to the
construction of false memories, including misinformation, imagination
inflation, and the semantic similarities used in the DRM procedure.
7.3d Apply . . . what you have learned to judge the reliability of

Apply Activity
7.3e Analyze . . . the arguments in the “recovered memory”

debate.
You should first understand the premise behind the idea of recovered
memories: Some people believe that if a memory is too painful, it might

be blocked from conscious recollection, only to be recovered later
through therapeutic techniques. Others argue that it is difficult to prove
that a “recovered” memory is actually real, as opposed to falsely

constructed. Given how easy it is to create false memories, they argue,
any memory believed to be recovered should be viewed with skepticism.

Chapter 8
Thought and Language
8.1 The Organization of Knowledge
Concepts and Categories
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Priming and Semantic

Networks
Experience, the Brain, and Culture
Module 8.1 Summary
8.2 Problem Solving, Judgment, and Decision Making

Defining and Solving Problems
Judgment and Decision Making
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Maximizing and
Satisficing in Complex Decisions
Module 8.2 Summary
8.3 Language and Communication
What Is Language?
The Development of Language
Genes, Evolution, and Language
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Genes and Language

Module 8.3 Summary
Module 8.1 The Organization of
Knowledge
Login/Shutterstock
8.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with concepts and
categories.
8.1b Understand . . . theories of how people organize their knowledge
about the world.
8.1c Understand . . . how experience and culture can shape the way
we organize our knowledge.

8.1d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify prototypical examples.
8.1e Analyze . . . the claim that the language we speak determines
how we think.
Have you ever become lost on the web? It happens to most of us at some
point. Imagine going to a site like Wikipedia to answer a homework
question about Albert Einstein, then you see he won the Nobel Prize
and click that link to see exactly what that entails, and next thing you
know a half hour has passed and you are reading that the first known
usage of the word pizza was over a millennium ago in the coastal
Italian town of Gaeta. You know you have become lost because you
cannot retrace the steps you took to get Gaeta from Einstein’s Nobel
Prize. What makes those steps possible is that no facts exist in isolation;
all information is interconnected. This holds true whether you are
following links on the internet or searching your own memory for some
bit of trivia. One of the fundamental puzzles of cognitive psychology is
to understand what links together all the facts that comprise knowledge
of the world, and to learn how those links are formed and activated
when we learn and think.
Each of us has amassed a tremendous amount of knowledge in the course

of our lifetime. Indeed, it is impossible to put a number on just how many
facts each of us knows. Imagine trying to record everything you ever

learned about the world—how many books could you fill? Instead of
asking how much we know, psychologists are interested in how we keep

track of it all. In this module, we will explore what those processes are
like and how they work. We will start by learning about the key
terminology before presenting theories about how knowledge is stored
over the long term.

Concepts and Categories
A concept  is the mental representation of an object, event, or idea. Although

it seems as though different concepts should be distinct from each other,
there are actually very few independent concepts. You do not have just
one concept for chair, one for table, and one for sofa. Instead, each of
these concepts can be divided into smaller groups with more precise
labels, such as arm chair or coffee table. Similarly, all of these items can be
lumped together under the single label furniture. Psychologists use the
term categories  to refer to these clusters of interrelated concepts; the act of
forming or thinking about these groups is called categorization. So how
does categorization work? Psychologists and other scientists have
discovered at least two processes people use to categorize, so the answer

is, “It depends.”
Rule-Based Categorization
The earliest approach to the study of categories is rule-based
categorization ; categorizing objects or events according to a certain set of
rules or by a specific set of features—something similar to a dictionary
definition (Rouder & Ratcliffe, 2006). Definitions do a fine job of
explaining how people categorize items, at least in certain situations. For

example, a triangle can be defined as “a figure (usually, a plane rectilinear
figure) having three angles and three sides” (Oxford English Dictionary,
2011). Using this definition, you should find it easy to categorize the
triangles in Figure 8.1 .
Figure 8.1 Using the Definition of a Triangle to Categorize Shapes

Rules do not tell the full story of how categorization works, however. One
of the major problems we confront in this process is graded
membership —the observation that some concepts appear to make better

category members than others. For example, see if the definition in Table
8.1  fits your definition of bird and then categorize the items in the table.
Table 8.1 Categorizing Objects According to the Definition of Bird

Ideally, you said yes to the sparrow and penguin, and no to the apple. But
did you notice any difference in how you responded to the sparrow and
penguin? Psychologists have researched rule-based categorization using a
behavioural measure known as the sentence- verification technique, in

which volunteers wait for a sentence to appear in front of them on a
computer screen and respond as quickly as they can with a yes or no

answer to statements such as “A sparrow is a bird” or “A penguin is a
bird.” The choice the participant makes, as well as their reaction time to
respond, is measured by the researcher. Sentence verification shows us
that some members of a category are recognized faster than others (Olson
et al., 2004; Rosch & Mervis, 1975). In other words, subjects almost
always answer “yes” faster to sparrow than to penguin. This seems to go
against a rule-based categorization system because both sparrows and

penguins are equally good fits for the definition, but sparrows are
somehow perceived as being more bird-like than penguins. Thus, a

complete approach to categorization must also explain how “best
examples” influence how we categorize items.

Categorization by Comparison
When you hear the word bird, what mental image comes to mind? Does it
resemble an ostrich? Or is your image closer to a robin, sparrow, or blue
jay? The likely image that comes to mind when you imagine a bird is
what psychologists call an exemplar , a specific example that best
represents a category. Alternatively, a prototype  is a mental representation

of an average category member (Ashby & Rosedahl, 2017; Divjak & Arppe,
2013). Exemplars and prototypes are both mental representations of
categories; the difference is that an exemplar is a real example, whereas a
prototype can be thought of as an image that combines typical features of
category. Both allow for classification by comparison. That way, if you

encounter a little winged creature you have never seen before, its basic
shape—maybe just its silhouette—can be compared to your prototype or
an exemplar of a bird (Figure 8.2 ). A match will then be made and you
can then say, “Look at that bird.” Notice how different this process is from
rule-based categorization: No rules or definitions are involved—just a set

of similarities in overall shape and function.
Figure 8.2 A Prototypical Bird

Left: chatursunil/Shutterstock; centre: Al Mueller/Shutterstock; right: Leo/Shutterstock
The main advantage of comparison approaches to categorization is that

they better explain why some category members make better examples
than others. According to rule-based approaches, ostriches are birds just

as much as robins—they can be identified using the same set of rules.
Although that may be scientifically true, it does not match up with how
humans behave—it takes longer to verify that that ostriches are birds.
This is simply because ostriches do not resemble the rest of the family
very well,while robins are much closer to the prototypical bird.
Now that you have read about categorization by rules and by comparison,
you might wonder which approach is correct. Research says that we can
follow either approach—the choice really depends on how complicated a
category or a specific example might be. If there are a few major
distinctions between items, we use resemblance; if there are

complications, we switch to rules (Rouder & Ratcliff, 2004, 2006). For
example, if you walk through a park at night and a bat darts right by you,
your first impression might be “That bird almost hit me!” That’s because
the bat resembled a prototypical bird in many ways. However, if you then
realized it was a bat, you will recall that a bat follows a different set of
rules - it is a mammal, not a bird. In other words, it has hair rather than
feathers, gives live birth rather than laying eggs, and is far creepier.
Networks and Hierarchies
Rules and comparisons only explain part of how we organize
information. Each concept that we learn about has similarities to other
concepts and each category has similarities with other categories. These
connections among ideas can be represented in a diagram known as a
semantic network , an interconnected set of nodes (or concepts) and the links
that join them to form a category. Figure 8.3 . shows an example of a
typical category structure that might be found among people who share a
language and culture (although each individual will have their own
associations based on personal experience). There are two important
features: nodes are circles that represent concepts, and links connect them
together to represent the structure of a category as well as the
relationships among different categories. In these networks, similar items
have more, and stronger, connections than unrelated items (Collins &
Loftus, 1975; Morais, Olsson, & Schooler, 2013).
Figure 8.3 A Partial Semantic Network for "Animal"Animal

The nodes include the basic-level categories, Bird and Fish. Another node
represents the broader category of Animal, while the lowest three nodes
represent the more specific categories of Robin, Emu, and Trout.
Source: Based on Collins, A. M., & Quillian, M. R. (1969). Retrieval time from semantic memory.
Journal of Verbal Learning and Verbal Behavior, 8, 240–248.
Something you may notice about Figure 8.3  is that it is arranged in a
hierarchy—that is, it consists of a structure moving from general to very

specific. This organization is important because different levels of the
category are useful in different situations. The most frequently used level,
in both thought and language, is the basic-level category, which is located
in the middle row of the diagram (where birds and fish are) (Johnson &
Mervis, 1997; Rosch et al., 1976). A number of qualities make the basic-
level category unique:
Basic-level categories are the terms used most often in conversation.
They are the easiest to pronounce.

They are the level at which prototypes exist.
They are the level at which most thinking occurs.
To get a sense for how different category levels influence our thinking, we
can compare sentences referring to an object at different levels. Consider
what would happen if someone approached you and made any one of the
following statements:
There’s an animal in your yard.

There’s a bird in your yard.
There’s a gray jay in your yard
The second sentence—”There’s a bird in your yard”—is probably the one

you are most likely to hear, and it makes reference to a basic-level
category (birds). Many people would respond that the choice of animal as
a label indicates confusion, claiming that if the speaker knew it was a bird,
they should have said so; otherwise, it sounds like they are trying to
figure out which kind of animal they are looking at. Indeed, superordinate
categories like animal are generally used when someone is uncertain about
an object or when he or she wishes to group together a number of
different examples from the basic-level category (e.g., birds, cats, dogs).
In contrast, when the speaker identifies a subordinate-level category like

gray jay, it suggests that there is something special about this particular
type of bird. It may also indicate that the speaker has expert-level
knowledge of the basic category and that using the more specific level
helps get their point across in the intended way—perhaps they recall how
the Canadian Geographical Society lobbied to have these jays become the
national bird.
In order to demonstrate the usefulness of semantic networks in our

attempt to explain how we organize knowledge, complete this easy test
based on the animal network in Figure 8.3 . If you were asked to react to
dozens of sentences, and the following two sentences were included
among them, which do you think you would mark as “true” the fastest?
A robin is a bird.
A robin is an animal.
As you can see in the network diagram, robin and bird are closer together;
in fact, to connect robin to animal, you must first go through bird. Sure
enough, people regard the sentence “A robin is a bird” as a true statement
faster than “A robin is an animal.”
Now consider another set of examples. Which trait do you think you
would verify faster?
A robin has wings.

A robin eats.
Using the connecting lines as we did before, we can predict that it would
be the first statement about wings. As research shows, our guess would
be correct. These results demonstrate that how concepts are arranged in
semantic networks can influence how quickly we can access information
about them.
Priming and Semantic Networks
The thousands of concepts and categories in long-term memory
are not isolated, but connected in a number of ways. What are

the consequences of forming all the connections in semantic
networks?
What do we know about semantic networks?

In your daily life, you notice the connections within semantic
networks anytime you encounter one aspect of a category and
other related concepts seem to come to mind. Hearing the word

fruit, for example, might lead you to think of an apple, and the
apple may lead you to think of a computer, which may lead you
to think of a paper that is due tomorrow. These associations
illustrate the concept of priming —the activation of individual
concepts in long-term memory. Interestingly, research has shown
that priming can also occur without your awareness; fruit may
not have brought the image of a watermelon to mind, but the
concept of a watermelon may have been primed nonetheless.
How can science explain priming effects?

Psychologists can test for priming through reaction time
measurements, such as those in the sentence verification tasks
discussed earlier or through a method called the lexical decision
task. With the lexical decision method, a volunteer sits at a

computer and stares at a focal point. Next, a string of letters
flashes on the screen. The volunteer responds yes or no as
quickly as possible to indicate whether the letters spell a word
(see Figure 8.4 ). Using this method, a volunteer should respond
faster that apple is a word if it follows the word fruit (which is
semantically related) than if it follows the word bus (which is not
semantically related).
Figure 8.4 A Lexical Decision Task
In a lexical decision task, an individual watches a computer

screen as strings of letters are presented. The participant must
respond as quickly as possible to indicate whether the letters
spell a word (e.g., desk) or are a non-word (e.g., sekd).
Given that lexical decision tasks are highly controlled

experiments, we might wonder if they have any impact outside of
the laboratory. One test by Jennifer Coane suggests that priming
does occur in everyday life (Coane & Balota, 2009). Coane’s

research team invited volunteers to participate in lexical decision
tasks about holidays at different times of the year. The words

they chose were based on the holiday season at that time. Sure
enough, without any laboratory priming, words such as

nutcracker and reindeer showed priming effects at times when
they were congruent (or “in season”) in December, relative to

other times of the year (see Figure 8.5 ). Similarly, words like
leprechaun and shamrock showed a priming effect during the

month of March. Because the researchers did not instigate the
priming, it must have been the holiday spirit at work:
Decorations and advertisements may serve as constant primers.
Figure 8.5 Priming Affects the Speed of Responses on a Lexical Decision Task
Average response times were faster when the holiday-themed

words were congruent (in season), as represented by the blue
bars. This finding is consistent for both the first half and the
second half of the list of words.
Source: Based on Coane, J. H., & Balota, D. A. (2009). Priming the Holiday Spirit:
Persistent Activation due to Extraexperimental Experiences Fig. 1, Pg. 1126,
Psychonomic Bulletin & Review, 16(6), 1124–1128, 2009.

Priming influences thought and behaviour, but is certainly not
all-powerful. On the one hand, priming does a very good job of
explaining many language phenomena, such as the fact that we

rarely notice when words have multiple meanings. If you hear the
children’s rhyme, “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,” you can
easily imagine a character tumbling from his perch high atop a

wall. However, if that is followed by, “but his winter was
terrible,” you can probably sense a delay and a little surprise as
you realize the joke—you had be primed to expect only one sense
of the word fall while the comic had you primed to expect
another. On the other hand, priming can be very weak at times,
particularly when describing more complex combinations of
behaviour. You are very unlikely to become clumsy and fall down
just because you encountered that rhyme—not even if you get a
whole thesaurus entry of synonyms to go along with it.
The effects of priming can vary a great deal, and some published
experiments have been very difficult to replicate—an important
criterion of quality research. In fact, there have been very open
debates at academic conferences and in peer-reviewed journals

about the best way to conduct the research and how to interpret
the results (Cesario, 2014; Klatzky, Creswell, 2014). It may be
safest to say that priming is weakest when applied to large,
physical concepts such as a person’s posture movements.

However, it is very powerful when applied to the way language
activities concepts and categories. Even a fishing enthusiast is
likely to have overlooked the word perch in the previous
paragraph while remaining upright, physically unaffected by the
word tumbling” in the very same sentence.

Advertisers know all too well that priming is more than just a
curiosity; it can be used in a controlled way to promote specific
behaviours. For example, cigarette advertising is not allowed on
television stations, but large tobacco companies can sponsor anti-
smoking ads. Why would a company advertise against its own
product? Researchers brought a group of smokers into the lab to

complete a study on television programming and subtly included
a specific type of advertisement between segments (they did not
reveal the true purpose of the study until after it was completed).
Their participants were four times as likely to light up after
watching a tobacco-company anti-smoking ad than if they saw
the control group ad about supporting a youth sports league

(Harris et al., 2013). It would appear that while the verbal
message is “don’t smoke,” the images actually prime the
behaviour. Fortunately, more healthful behaviours have been
promoted through priming; for example, carefully designed
primes have been shown to reduce mindless snacking (Papies &

Hamstra, 2010) and binge-drinking in university students (Goode
et al., 2014).
Experience, the Brain, and Culture
In the first part of this module, we examined how we group together

concepts to form categories. However, it is important to remember that
these processes are formed, at least in part, on our personal, day-to-day
perceptions and activities. Of course, we must account for the fact that
much of what we experience is based within a culture, ranging from the

food we eat to how we relate to our families and the community. In this
section of the module, we examine the role of experience on the ways we
organize vast stores of information.

Experience and Categorization
People integrate new stimuli into categories based on what they have
seen, heard about, or read before. When we encounter a new item and it
closely matches a category we are familiar with, these procedures lead to
fast and accurate categorization-by-comparison. If you see a plate with
two slices of bread on it with some cheese in the middle, you can easily
retrieve from memory an exemplar—perhaps a grilled cheese sandwich
you ate yesterday. Doing so will lead you to infer that this new object is a
sandwich, even if it is a type of sandwich that you might not have
encountered before. At other times, you might encounter something you
know a little about, but have never personally experienced. Imagine a

student visits a Turkish restaurant for the first time and spots something
that looks like a small, canoe-shaped pizza. Although neither prototype—
canoe or pizza—is satisfactory, he remembers his friend from Turkey
recommending an item that fits this description. Considering each of the
characteristics she described, the student can confidently identify it as

pide.
Experience helps us use comparison techniques quickly and accurately.
However, there are also times when our reliance on previous experience
can lead us astray. In a series of studies with medical students and
practising physicians, Geoffrey Norman and colleagues at McMaster
University found that recent exposure to an example from one category
can bias how people diagnose new cases (Leblanc et al., 2001; Norman,
Brooks, et al., 1989; Norman, Rosenthal, et al., 1989). In one experiment,

medical students were taught to diagnose different skin conditions using
written rules as well as photographs of these diseases. Some of the
photographs were typical examples of that disorder, whereas other
photographs were unusual cases that resembled other disorders. When
tested later, the participants were more likely to rely on the previously
viewed photographs than they were on the rules (a fact that would
surprise most medical schools); in fact, the unusual photographs viewed
during training even led to wrong diagnoses for test items that were
textbook examples of that disorder (Allen et al., 1992)! This shows the
power that our memory can have on how we take in and organize new
information. As an aside, expert physicians were accurate over 90% of the
time in most studies, so you can still trust your doctor.

Categories in the Brain
Studies of neurological patients provide a unique perspective on how
memories are organized in the brain. Some patients with damage to the
temporal lobes have trouble identifying objects such as pictures of
animals or vegetables despite the fact that they were able to describe the
different shapes that made up those objects (i.e., they could still see). The
fact that these deficits were for particular categories of objects was
intriguing, as it suggested that damaging certain parts of the brain could
impair the ability to recognize some categories while leaving others
unaffected (Warrington & McCarthy, 1983; Warrington & Shallice, 1979).
Because these problems were isolated to certain categories, these patients

were diagnosed as having a disorder known as category specific visual
agnosia (or CSVA).
Early attempts to find a pattern in these patients’ deficits focused on the
distinction between living and non-living categories (see Figure 8.6 ).
Several patients with CSVA had difficulties identifying fruits, vegetables,
and/or animals but were still able to accurately identify members of
categories such as tools and furniture (Arguin et al., 1996; Bunn et al.,
1998). However, although CSVA has been observed in a number of
patients, researchers also noted that it would be physically impossible for
our brains to have specialized regions for every category we have
encountered. There simply isn’t enough space for this to occur. Instead,
they proposed that evolutionary pressures led to the development of
specialized circuits in the brain for a small group of categories that were
important for our survival. These categories included animals, fruits and
vegetables, members of our own species, and possibly tools (Caramazza
& Mahon, 2003). Few, if any, other categories involve such specialized
memory storage. This theory can explain most, but not all, of the
problems observed in the patients tested thus far. It is also in agreement
with brain imaging studies showing that different parts of the temporal
lobes are active when people view items from different categories,
including animals, tools, and people (Martin et al., 1996). Thus, although
different people will vary in terms of the exact location that these
categories are stored, it does appear that some categories are stored
separately from others.
Figure 8.6 Naming Errors for a CSVA Patient
Patients with CSVA have problems identifying members of specific

categories. When asked to identify the object depicted by different line
drawings, patient E.W. showed a marked impairment for the recognition
of animals. Her ability to name items from other categories demonstrated
that her overall perceptual abilities were preserved.
Source: Based on data from Caramazza, A., & Mahon, B. Z. (2003). The organization of
conceptual knowledge: the evidence from category-specific semantic deficits. Trends in Cognitive
Sciences, 7(8), 354–361.
Culture and Categories
Animals, plants, family life, the weather—all of these aspects of daily life
fall into categories. Our natural inclination to organize these objects and
events into categories is to some degree a universal quality. All around
the world, cultures tend to recognize the same objects as plants, animals,
dwellings, and so on; we even share basic-level concepts in these

categories (Bailenson et al., 2002; Berlin, 1974). On the other hand, the
way we categorize objects depends to a some extent on what we have
learned about those objects from others in our culture. For example, in
North America, cows are sometimes referred to as “livestock.” meaning
they are animals raised to become food; whereas in India, where cows are
regarded as sacred, such a category would be nonsense.
One of the best known relationships between culture and categorization
is found in the study of folk biology—the ways people in various
communities and cultures think about the natural world in their daily
lives. All over the world, children seem to recognize early on that plants
and animals are two main categories of living things. Next they learn the
words for various life forms, such as tree or flower in the category of
plants, or bird and fish in the category of animals. Although we eventually
learn more and more specific names—a single object may be called an
animal, mammal, deer, whitetail deer, or northern whitetail deer—most of
us will continue to say “deer” and treat it as a basic level category. But this
is where culture comes in. In one experiment, researchers found that
university students in Michigan referred to animals at the expected level

(e.g., deer instead of whitetail deer). Researchers also travelled to a
Mayan village, where there is much less dependence on technology and
commercial products; in other words, plants and animals were much
more salient to members of that community than to the students in
Michigan. The Mayan volunteers tended to shift the basic level to a more
specific level, and to be much more aware of varieties at the most specific
levels (Atran et al., 1997). Thus, folk biology categories are surprisingly
similar around the world, but the use of the basic level of a category is
based—at least to some extent—on cultural learning. Psychologists have
also discovered that cultural factors influence not just how we categorize
individual objects, but also how objects in our world relate to one
another.
In addition, how objects are related to each other differs considerably
across cultures. Which of the two photos in Figure 8.7a  do you think
someone from North America took? Researchers asked university
students in the United States and Japan to take a picture of someone,
from whatever angle or degree of focus they chose. In the United States,
students were more likely to take close-up pictures, whereas Japanese

students typically included surrounding objects (Nisbett & Masuda,
2003). When asked which two objects go together in Figure 8.7b ,

Japanese students coupled cows with grass, because grass is what cows
eat. In the United States, however, students tended to group cows with
chickens, because both are animals (Gutchess et al., 2010; Nisbett &
Masuda, 2003). These examples demonstrate cross-cultural differences in

perceiving how objects are related to their environments. People raised in
North America tend to focus on a single characteristic, whereas Japanese

people tend to view objects in relation to their environment.
Figure 8.7 Your Culture and Your Point of View

(a) Which of these two pictures do you think a North American would be
more likely to take? (b) Which two go together?
Source: (bottom) Adapted from Nisbett, R. E., & Masuda, T. (2003). Culture and point of view.
Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 100(19), 11163–11170. Copyright © 2003. Reprinted
by permission of National Academy of Sciences; (top photos)
Blend Images/Shutterstock.
Researchers have even found differences in brain function when people
of different cultural backgrounds view and categorize objects (Park &

Huang, 2010). Figure 8.8  reveals differences in brain activity when
Westerners and East Asians view photos of objects, such as an animal,

against a background of grass and trees. Areas of the brain devoted to
processing both objects (lateral parts of the occipital lobes) and

background (the parahippocampal gyrus, an area underneath the
hippocampus) become activated when Westerners view these photos,

whereas only areas devoted to background processes become activated in
East Asians (Goh et al., 2007).
Figure 8.8 Brain Activity Varies by Culture
Brain regions that are involved in object recognition and processing are
activated differently in people from Western and Eastern cultures. Brain
regions that are involved in processing individual objects are more highly
activated when Westerners view focal objects against background
scenery, whereas people from East Asian countries appear to attend to
background scenery more closely than focal objects.
Although culture and memory both clearly affect how we describe and
categorize our world, we do need to remember to critically analyze the
results of these studies. Specifically, as our world becomes more

Westernized, it is possible—even likely—that these cultural differences
will decrease. These results, then, tell us about cultural differences at a
given time. As you saw in the Myths in Mind  feature, we should also
exercise caution when reading about another form of cultural influences
on categorization—linguistic relativity.
Myths in Mind
How Many Words for Snow?
Cultural differences in how people think and categorize items
have led to the idea of linguistic relativity  (or the Whorfian
hypothesis)—the theory that the language we use determines
how we understand (and categorize) the world. One often-cited
example is about the Inuit in Canada’s Arctic regions, who are

thought to have many words for snow, each with a different
meaning. For example, aput means snow that is on the ground,
and gana means falling snow. This observation, which was
made in the early 19th century by anthropologist Franz Boas,

was often repeated and exaggerated, with claims that Inuit
people had dozens of words for different types of snow. With
so many words for snow, it was thought that perhaps the Inuit
people perceive snow differently than someone who does not
live near it almost year-round. Scholars used the example to

argue that language determines how people categorize the
world.
Research tells us that we must be careful in over- generalizing

the influence of language on categorization. The reality is that
the Inuit seem to categorize snow the same way a person from
the rest of Canada does. Someone from balmy Winnipeg can

tell the difference between falling snow, blowing snow, sticky
snow, drifting snow, and “oh-sweet-God-it’s-snowing- in-May”
snow, just as well as an Inuit who lives with snow for most of
the year (Martin, 1986). Therefore, we see that the linguistic

relativity hypothesis is incorrect in this case: The differences in
vocabulary for snow does not lead to differences in perception.
Module 8.1 Summary
8.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with concepts and

categories.
Review Module 8.1
8.1b Understand . . . theories of how people organize their

knowledge about the world.
Certain objects and events are more likely to be associated in clusters.
The priming effect demonstrates this phenomenon; for example, hearing

the word fruit makes it more likely that you will think of apple than, say,
table.” More specifically, we organize our knowledge about the world
through semantic networks, which arrange categories from general to
specific levels. Usually we think in terms of basic-level categories, but
under some circumstances we can be either more or less specific. Studies
of people with brain damage suggest that the neural representations of
members of evolutionarily important categories are stored together in the
brain. These studies also show us that our previous experience with a
category can influence how we categorize and store new stimuli in the
brain.
8.1c Understand . . . how experience and culture can shape the

way we organize our knowledge.
One of many possible examples of this influence was discussed.
Specifically, ideas of how objects relate to one another differ between
people from North America and people from Eastern Asia. People from
North America (and Westerners in general) tend to focus on individual,
focal objects in a scene, whereas people from Japan tend to focus on how
objects are interrelated.
8.1d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify prototypical

examples.
Apply Activity
Try the following questions for practice.
1. What do you consider to be a prototypical sport? Why?

2. Some categories are created spontaneously, yet still have
prototypes. For example, what might be a prototypical object for
the category “what to save if your house is on fire”?

8.1e Analyze . . . the claim that the language we speak
determines how we think.
Researchers have shown that language can influence the way we think,
but it cannot entirely shape how we perceive the world. For example,
people can perceive visual and tactile differences between different types
of snow even if they don’t have unique words for each type.
Module 8.2 Problem Solving,
Judgment, and Decision Making
8.2a Know . . . the key terminology of problem solving and decision
making.
8.2b Understand . . . the characteristics that problems have in
common.
8.2c Understand . . . how obstacles to problem solving are often self-
imposed.
8.2d Apply . . . your knowledge to determine if you tend to be a
maximizer or a satisficer.
8.2e Analyze . . . whether human thought is primarily logical or
intuitive.
Roommates Kurt and Antoine had just started university and decided
to spend their fall break on a camping trip. Coming from Germany,

Kurt was not able to bring much to school with him, and he wound up
spending two weeks visiting nearly a dozen outdoors stores and online
retailers, and reading product reviews until late in the night. He wound
up spending an astonishing amount of money on a sleeping bag and
tent—more than many students will spend on recreation all year.
Antoine also needed gear, but he simply went to a sporting goods store
and picked up something affordable off the shelf. That first night at the
campsite, Kurt mocked Antoine’s plain, amateurish equipment.
However, by the end of the trip, it was clear that despite unequal
equipment, they had equal amounts of fun. If anything, Antoine seemed
happier with his purchases as Kurt was expecting so much more. It

would seem that one of the greatest benefits of living in a highly
technological, consumer-based society is the luxury of choice. However,

psychological science has shown that for some people and in some
situations, the luxury of choice might actually be better described as a

burden. Barry Schwartz and his colleagues (2002)have found in the
laboratory what Antoine noticed at the campsite: Individuals who

regularly strive for perfection in their decisions—"maximizers," as they
are called—are often less satisfied than the “satisficers,” who are happy
with whatever works.
In other modules of this text, you have read about how we learn and
remember new information (Modules 7.1  and 7.2 ) and how we
organize our knowledge of different concepts (Module 8.1 ). This
module will focus on how we use this information to help us solve
problems and make decisions. Although it may seem like such “higher-
order cognitive abilities” are distinct from memory and categorization,

they are actually a wonderful example of how the different topics within
the field of psychology relate to each other. When we try to solve a

problem or decide between alternatives, we are actually drawing on our
knowledge of different concepts and using that information to try to

imagine different possible outcomes (Green et al., 2006). How well we
perform these tasks depends on a number of factors, including our
problem-solving strategies and the type of information available to us.

Defining and Solving Problems
You are certainly familiar with the general concept of a problem, but in
psychological terminology, problem solving  means accomplishing a goal
when the solution or the path to the solution is not clear (Leighton &
Sternberg, 2003; Robertson, 2001). Indeed, many of the problems that we
face in life contain obstacles that interfere with our ability to reach our
goals. The challenge, then, is to find a technique or strategy that will
allow us to overcome these obstacles. As you will see, there are a number
of options that people use for this purpose—although none of them are
perfect.
Problem-Solving Strategies and Techniques
Each of us will face an incredible number of problems in our lives. Some
of these problems will be straightforward and easy to solve; however,
others will be quite complex and will require us to come up with a novel
solution. How do we remember the strategies we can use for routine
problems? And, how do we develop new strategies for nonroutine

problems? Although these questions appear as if they could have an
infinite number of answers, there seem to be two common techniques
that we use time and again.
One type of strategy is more objective, logical, and slower, whereas the
other is more subjective, intuitive, and quicker (Gilovich & Griffin, 2002;
Holyoak & Morrison, 2005). The difference between them can be
illustrated with an example. Suppose you are trying to figure out where
you have left your phone. You’ve tried having a friend call you from their
phone, but you couldn’t hear yours ringing anywhere. So, it’s not in your
house. A logical approach might involve making of list of the places
you’ve been in the past 24 hours and then retracing your steps until you
(hopefully) find your phone. An intuitive approach might involve thinking
about previous times you’ve lost your phone or wallet and using these
experiences to guide your search (e.g., “I’m always forgetting my phone at
Reyna’s place, so I should look there first”).
When we think logically, we rely on algorithms , problem-solving
strategies based on a series of rules. As such, they are very logical and follow
a set of steps, usually in a pre-set order. Computers are very good at
using algorithms because they can follow a preprogrammed set of steps
and perform thousands of operations every second. People, however, are
not always so rule-bound. We tend to rely on intuition to find strategies
and solutions that seem like a good fit for the problem. These are called
heuristics , problem-solving strategies that stem from prior experiences and
provide an educated guess as to what is the most likely solution. Heuristics are
often quite efficient; these “rules of thumb” are usually accurate and allow
us to find solutions and to make decisions quickly. In the example of
trying to figure out where you left your phone, you are more likely to put
your phone down at a friend’s house than on the bus, so that increases
the likelihood that your phone is still sitting on his coffee table.
Borrowing your friend’s phone to call Reyna is much simpler than
retracing your steps from class to the gym to the grocery store, and so on.
The overall goal of both algorithms and heuristics is to find an accurate
solution as efficiently as possible. In many situations, heuristics allow us
to solve problems quite rapidly. However, the trade-off is that these
shortcuts can occasionally lead to incorrect solutions, a topic we will

return to later in this module.
Of course, different problems call for different approaches. In fact, in
some cases, it might be useful to start off with one type of problem
solving and then switch to another. Think about how you might play the
children’s word game known as hangman, shown in Figure 8.9 . Here,

the goal state is to spell a word. In the initial state, you have none of the
letters or other clues to guide you. So, your obstacles are to overcome
(i.e., fill in) blanks without guessing the wrong letters. How would you go
about achieving this goal?
Figure 8.9 Problem Solving in Hangman

In a game of Hangman, your job is to guess the letters in the word
represented by the four blanks to the left. If you get a letter right, your
opponent will put it in the correct blank. If you guess an incorrect letter,
your opponent will draw a body part on the stick figure. The goal is to
guess the word before the entire body is drawn.
On one hand, an algorithm might go like this: Guess the letter A, then B,
thenC, and so on through the alphabet until you lose or until the word is
spelled. However, this would not be a very successful approach. An

alternative algorithm would be to find out how frequently each letter
occurs in the alphabet and then guess the letters in that order until the
game ends with you winning or losing. So, you would start out by
selecting E, then A, and so on. On the other hand, a heuristic might be
useful. For example, if you discover the last letter is G, you might guess
that the next-to-last letter is N, because you know that many words end
with -ing. Using a heuristic here would save you time and usually lead to
an accurate solution more quickly than an algorithmic approach.
As you can see, some problems (such as the hangman game) can be
approached with either algorithms or heuristics. In other words, most

people start out a game like hangman with an algorithm: Guess the most
frequent letters until a recognizable pattern emerges, such as -ing, or the

letters -oug (which are often followed by h, as in tough or cough) appear.
At that point, you might switch to heuristics and guess which letters
would be most likely to fit in the spaces.

Cognitive Obstacles
Using algorithms or heuristics will often allow you to eventually solve a
problem; however, there are times when the problem-solving rules and
strategies that you have established might actually get in the way of
problem solving. The nine-dot problem (Figure 8.10 ; Maier, 1930) is a
good example of such a cognitive obstacle. The goal of this problem is to

connect all nine dots using only four straight lines and without lifting
your pen or pencil off the paper. Try solving the nine-dot problem before
you read further.
Figure 8.10 The Nine-Dot Problem
Connect all nine dots using only four straight lines and without lifting
your pen or pencil (Maier, 1930). The solution to the problem can be seen
in Figure 8.11 .
Source: Maier, N. F. (1930). Reasoning in humans. I. On direction. Journal of Comparative
Psychology, 10(2), 115–143. American Psychological Association.
Here is something to think about when solving this problem: Most people
impose limitations on where the lines can go, even though those limits
are not a part of the rules. Specifically, people often assume that a line
cannot extend beyond the dots. As you can see in Figure 8.11 , breaking
these rules is necessary in order to find a solution to the problem.
Figure 8.11 One Solution to the Nine-Dot Problem
In this case, the tendency is to see the outer edge of dots as a boundary,
and to assume that one cannot go past that boundary. However, if you
are willing to extend some of the lines beyond the dots, it is actually quite
a simple puzzle to complete.
Having a routine solution available for a problem generally allows us to

solve that problem with less effort than we would use if we encountered
it for the first time. This efficiency saves us time and effort. Sometimes,
however, routines may impose cognitive barriers that impede solving a

problem if circumstances change so that the routine solution no longer
works. A mental set  is a cognitive obstacle that occurs when an individual

attempts to apply a routine solution to what is actually a new type of problem.
Figure 8.12  presents a problem that often elicits a mental set. The
answer appears at the bottom of the figure, but make your guess before
you check it. Did you get it right? If not, then you probably succumbed to
a mental set.
Figure 8.12 The Five-Daughter Problem
Maria’s father has five daughters: Lala, Lela, Lila, and Lola. What is the
fifth daughter’s name?
The fifth daughter’s name is Maria.
Mental sets can occur in many different situations. For instance, a person
may experience functional fixedness , which occurs when an individual

identifies an object or technique that could potentially solve a problem, but can
think of only its most obvious function. Functional fixedness can be

illustrated with a classic thought problem: Figure 8.13  shows two strings
hanging from a ceiling. Imagine you are asked to tie the strings together.
However, once you grab a string, you cannot let go of it until both are
tied together. The problem is, unless you have extraordinarily long arms,
you cannot reach the second string while you are holding on to the first
one (Maier, 1931). So how would you solve the problem? Figure 8.16 
offers one possible answer and an explanation of what makes this
problem challenging.
Figure 8.13 The Two-String Problem
Imagine you are standing between two strings and need to tie them
together. The only problem is that you cannot reach both strings at the
same time (Maier, 1931). In the room with you is a table, a piece of paper,
a pair of pliers, and a ball of cotton. What do you do? For a solution, see
Figure 8.16 .
Problem solving occurs in every aspect of life, but as you can see, there
are basic cognitive processes that appear no matter what the context. We
identify the goal we want to achieve, try to determine the best strategy to
do so, and hope that we do not get caught by unexpected obstacles—
especially those we create in our own minds.
Of course, not all problems are negative obstacles that must be overcome.
Problem solving can also be part of some positive events as well.

Psych@
Problem Solving and Humour
Question: Why can’t university students take exams at the zoo?
Answer: There are too many cheetahs.
Jokes are actually problems that need to be solved in order to
get a laugh. According to Benign Violation theory, the solution

typically requires three elements The first requires the audience
to detect incongruity between the set up and punchline—this is
a violation of expectations: What on earth do large, spotted
cats have to do with exams? This violation is the problem; it
creates an initial, psychological tension. The second element is

to resolve the violation: “cheetahs” sounds a lot like “cheaters,”
which is a concept very much related to university exams. At
this point, the audience has solved the problem. But is it funny?
Resolving a surprising violation is only funny if it is benign. In

other words, it’s funny only if no harm is done (see Figure
8.14 ; Warren & McGraw, 2015).
Figure 8.14 The Benign Violation Theory of Humour

Humour is a form of problem solving. Most things we find
funny begin with a problem: a violation of our expectations. The
humour comes from resolving that violation, but only if the
solution is benign. These processes lead to a feeling of
amusement and laughter or, in the case of the cheetah joke, a
groan and rolling of the eyes.
Source: Warren, C., & McGraw, A. P. (2016). Differentiating what is humorous from
what is not. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 110(3), 407-430.
Benign violation theory can also explain what we find

humorous outside of jokes. For example, watching a friend
falling down the stairs may present a type of violation: That’s
not how he is expected to get downstairs. However, it isn’t
funny if he is seriously injured—then you resolve the violation
with alarm and concern. It’s only funny if it’s benign. In other
words, he’s physically okay—although his pride is a little hurt—
so you can start to poke fun at him (McGraw et al., 2012).
Benign violation theory shows us that humour actually arises
from solving a problem—a discrepancy between what is
expected and what actually happens. Unfortunately, thinking
too much about a joke can be a bad thing. Author E.B. White
once likened dissecting a joke to dissecting a frog: Nobody
enjoys it and the frog winds up dead.
Recent neuroimaging studies have manipulated the

characteristics of verbal stimuli to allow the researchers to
identify brain areas related to nonsense stimuli (incongruity
that was not resolved) and stimuli that were perceived as

humorous (incongruities that were successfully resolved).
Incongruity detection and resolution activated areas in the
temporal lobes and the medial frontal lobes (close to the

middle of the brain). Elaboration activated a network involving
the left frontal and parietal lobes (Chan et al., 2013). The
purpose of this section wasn’t to take the joy out of humour.
Instead, it was to show that humour, like most of our
behaviours, involves the biopsychosocial model. If we

suggested otherwise, we’d be lion.
Judgment and Decision Making
Like problem solving, judgments and decisions can be based on logical

algorithms, intuitive heuristics, or a combination of the two types of
thought (Gilovich & Griffin, 2002; Holyoak & Morrison, 2005). We tend
to use heuristics more often than we realize, even those of us who
consider ourselves to be logical thinkers. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing

—heuristics allow us to make efficient judgments and decisions all the
time. In this section of the module, we will examine specific types of
heuristics, how they positively influence our decision making, and how
they can sometimes lead us to incorrect conclusions.

Conjunction Fallacies and
Representativeness
Linda is 31 years old, single, outspoken, and very bright. She majored in philosophy. As a
student, she was deeply concerned with issues of discrimination and social justice, and also
participated in antinuclear demonstrations. Which is more likely?
A. Linda is a bank teller.
B. Linda is a bank teller and is active in the feminist movement.
Which answer did you choose? In a study that presented this problem to
participants, the researchers reported that (B) was chosen more than 80%
of the time. Most respondents stated that option (B) seemed more correct
even though option (A) is actually much more likely and would be the
correct choice based on the question asked (Tversky & Kahneman, 1982).
So how is the correct answer (A)? Individuals who approach this problem
from the stance of probability theory would apply some simple logical
steps. The world has a certain number of (A) bank tellers; this number
would be considered the base rate, or the rate at which you would find a
bank teller in the world’s population just by asking random people on the
street if they are a bank teller. Among the base group, there will be a
certain number of (B) bank tellers who are feminists, as shown in Figure
8.15 . In other words, the number of bank tellers who are feminists will
always be a fraction of (i.e., less than) the total number of bank tellers.
But because many of Linda’s qualities could relate to a “feminist,” the idea
that Linda is a bank teller and a feminist feels correct. This type of error,
known as the conjunction fallacy , reflects the mistaken belief that finding a
specific member in two overlapping categories (i.e., a member of the
conjunction of two categories) is more likely than finding any member of one of
the larger, general categories.
Figure 8.15 The Conjunction Fallacy
There are more bank tellers in the world than there are bank tellers who
are feminists, so there is a greater chance that Linda comes from either
(A) or (B) than just (B) alone.
The conjunction fallacy demonstrates the use of the representativeness
heuristic : making judgments of likelihood based on how well an example

represents a specific category. In the bank teller example, we cannot identify
any traits that seem like a typical bank teller. At the same time, the traits
of social activism really do seem to represent a feminist. Thus, the
judgment was biased by the fact that Linda seemed representative of a

feminist, even though a feminist bank teller will always be rarer than
bank tellers in general (i.e., the representativeness heuristic influenced
the decision more than logic or mathematical probabilities).
Figure 8.16 A Solution to the Two-String Problem

One solution to the two-string problem from Figure 8.13  is to take the
pliers off the table and tie them to one string. This provides enough
weight to swing one string back and forth while you grab the other. Many
people demonstrate functional fixedness when they approach this
problem—they do not think of using the pliers as a weight because its
normal function is as a grasping tool.
Seeing this type of problem has led many people to question what is
wrong with people’s ability to use logic: Why is it so easy to get 80% of
the people in a study to give the wrong answer? In fact, there is nothing
inherently wrong with using heuristics; they simply allow individuals to
obtain quick answers based on readily available information. In fact,

heuristics often lead to correct assumptions about a situation.
Consider this scenario:
You are in a department store trying to find a product that is apparently sold out. At the end of
the aisle, you see a young man in tan pants with a red polo shirt—the typical employee’s
uniform of this chain of stores. Should you stop and consider the probabilities that might
explain his attire?
A. A young man of this age would wear tan pants and a red polo shirt.
B. A young man of this age would wear tan pants and a red polo shirt and work at this
store.
Or does it make sense to just assume (B) is correct, and to simply ask the
young man for help (Shepperd & Koch, 2005)? In this case, it would make
perfect sense to assume (B) is correct and not spend time wondering
about the best logical way to approach the situation. In other words,
heuristics often work and, in the process, save us time and effort.
However, there are many situations in which these mental shortcuts can
lead to biased or incorrect conclusions.
Representativeness Heuristic and Conspiracy Theories

The Availability Heuristic
The availability heuristic  entails estimating the frequency of an event based
on how easily examples of it come to mind. In other words, we assume that if
examples are readily available, then they must be very frequent. For
example, researchers asked volunteers which was more frequent in the
English language:
A. Words that begin with the letter K
B. Words that have K as the third letter
Most subjects chose (A) even though it is not the correct choice. The
same thing happened with the consonants L, N, R, and V, all of which
appear as the third letter in a word more often than they appear as the
first letter (Tversky & Kahneman, 1973). This outcome reflects the
application of the availability heuristic: People base judgments on the
information most readily available.
Of course, heuristics often do produce correct answers. Subjects in the
same study were asked which was more common in English:
A. Words that begin with the letter K
B. Words that begin with the letter T
In this case, more subjects found that words beginning with T were
readily available to memory, and they were correct. The heuristic helped
provide a quick, intuitive answer.
There are numerous real-world examples of the availability heuristic. In
the year following the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, people were
much more likely to overestimate the likelihood that planes could crash
and/or be hijacked. As a result, fewer people flew that year than in the
year prior to the attacks, opting instead to travel by car when possible.
The availability of the image of planes crashing into the World Trade
Center was so vivid and easily retrieved from memory that it influenced
decision making. Ironically, this shift proved to be dangerous, particularly

given that driving is statistically much more dangerous than flying. Gerd
Gigerenzer, a German psychologist at the Max Planck Institute in Berlin,
examined traffic fatalities on U.S. roads in the years before and after 2001.
He found that in the calendar year following these terrorist attacks, there
were more than 1500 additional deaths on American roads (when
compared to the average of the previous years). Within a year of the
attacks, the number of people using planes returned to approximately
pre-9/11 levels; so did the number of road fatalities (Gigerenzer, 2004).
In other words, for almost a year, people overestimated the risks of flying
because it was easier to think of examples of 9/11 than to think of all of
the times hijackings and plane crashes did not occur; and they
underestimated the risks associated with driving because these images
were less available to many people. This example shows us that

heuristics, although often useful, can cause us to incorrectly judge the
risks associated with many elements of our lives (Gardner, 2008).
#Psych
The World Might Not Be As Mean As You Think
The more time you spend online, the more you will encounter
news, commentary on social media, and re-posted stories of

violence and mayhem in the world. The result of this exposure
may result in what some social scientists have called the mean
world syndrome. Although it sounds a little bit like a diagnosis,
it is far from being a disorder. In fact, it is a typical outcome of
the availability heuristic: Increased exposure to crime and

terrorism online results in readily available examples. When
thinking about violence, those images and stories come to

mind quickly; they are more readily available than the positive
stories. Therefore, people who have recently scrolled through a

major news website checking out the headlines are likely to
estimate violence as being more prevalent than the data show.
To illustrate this point, a journalist in Seattle, Washington,
compared the results of a public opinion poll (On a scale from 0

to 100, how much do you worry about crime in your
neighbourhood?) to the actual crime data gathered by the

city’s police department (See Figure 8.17 ). The average
citizen’s rating was 45 points. Yet a neighbourhood-by-

neighbourhood comparison showed that residents of South
Beacon Hill, the safest neighbourhood, produced the 12th
highest fear score of 49.8. Similar findings came from residents

of the Brighton/Dunlap and Pigeon Point neighbourhoods.
Although they are among the 15 safest neighbourhoods, their

fear averages were the 2nd and 3rd highest in the survey (Balk,
2018).
Figure 8.17 Fear of Crime vs. Rate of Crime

These findings may be surprising to some, but to psychologists
familiar with availability, they are relatively easy to explain. For
residents in the safest neighbourhoods, reports of crime are
likely to be more shocking and emotional because they are
infrequent. It is this emotional content that makes those stories

available and, as a consequence, the citizens are likely to see
the world as a much meaner place than it really is.
Anchoring and Framing Effects
While the representativeness and availability heuristics involve our ability
to remember examples that are similar to the current situation, other
heuristics influence our responses based on the way that information is
presented. Issues such as the wording of a problem and the problem’s
frames of reference can have a profound impact on judgments. One such

effect, known as the anchoring effect , occurs when an individual attempts
to solve a problem involving numbers and uses previous knowledge to keep (i.e.,
anchor) the response within a limited range. Sometimes this previous
knowledge consists of facts that we can retrieve from memory. For
example, imagine that you are asked to name the year that British
Columbia became part of Canada. Although most of you would, of
course, excitedly jump from your chair and shout, “1871!” the rest might
assume that if Canada became a country in 1867, then British Columbia
likely joined a few years after that. In this latter case, the birth of our
country in 1867 served as an anchor for the judgment about when British
Columbia joined Confederation.
The anchoring heuristic has also been produced experimentally. In these
cases, questions worded in different ways can produce vastly different
responses (Epley & Gilovich, 2006; Kahneman & Miller, 1986). For
example, consider what might happen if researchers asked the same
question to two different groups, using a different anchor each time:

A. What percentage of countries in the United Nations are from
Africa? Is it greater than or less than 10%? What do you think the
exact percentage is?
B. What percentage of countries in the United Nations are from
Africa? Is it greater than or less than 65%? What do you think the
exact percentage is?
Researchers conducted a study using similar methods and found that
individuals in group (A), who received the 10% anchor, estimated the
number to be approximately 25%. Individuals in group (B), who received

the 65% anchor, estimated the percentage at approximately 45%. In this
case, the anchor obviously had a significant effect on the estimates.
The anchoring heuristic can have a large effect on your life. For example,
have you ever had to bargain with someone while travelling? Or have you
ever negotiated the price of a car? If you are able to establish a low
anchor during bargaining, the final price is likely to be much lower than if
you let the salesperson dictate the terms. So don’t be passive—use what
you learn in this course to save yourself some money.
Decision making can also be influenced by how a problem is worded or

framed. Consider the following dilemma: Imagine that you are a selfless
doctor volunteering in a village in a disease-plagued part of the world.

You have two treatment options. Vaccine A has been used before; you
know that it will save 200 of the 600 villagers. Vaccine B is untested; it
has a 33% chance of saving all 600 people and a 67% chance of saving no
one. Which option would you choose?
Now let’s suppose that you are given two different treatment options for
the villagers. Treatment C has been used before and will definitely kill
67% of the villagers. Treatment D is untested; it has a 33% chance of
killing none of the villagers and a 67% chance of killing them all. Which
option would you choose?
Most people choose the vaccine that will definitely save 200 people
(Vaccine A) and the treatment that has a chance of killing no one

(Treatment D). This tendency is interesting because options A and C are
identical as are options B and D. As you can see by looking at Figure

8.18 , the only difference between them is that one is framed in terms of
saving people and the other is framed in terms of killing people. Yet,
people become much more risk-averse when the question is framed in

terms of potential losses (or deaths).
Figure 8.18 Framing Effects
When people are asked which vaccine or treatment they would use to
help a hypothetical group of villagers, the option they select is influenced
by how the question is worded or framed. If the question is worded in
terms of saving villagers, most people choose Vaccine A. If the question is
worded in terms of killing villagers, most people choose Treatment D.
Source: Wade, C., & Tavris, C. (2002). Invitation to Psychology, 2nd ed., ©2002, p. 121. Adapted
and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., Upper Saddle River, New
Jersey.
Belief Perseverance and Confirmation Bias
Whenever we make a decision, solve a problem, or commit ourselves to a
cause, we become invested in that idea. We usually have ample
opportunity to evaluate that belief with any new evidence or arguments
that come along. These are our chances to make sure we got it right and
to correct ourselves when the facts prove us wrong. However, we are

often more invested in preserving confidence in our beliefs than in
getting to the truth.
Let’s use an example from politics to make this discussion more concrete.
(There may be no other aspect of life in which we are more committed to

our beliefs, except for perhaps sports teams.) Each time an election comes
around, party members tend to get behind their nominee and endorse
most of the campaign platform. Although this feels like a genuine, well-
informed political judgment to the individual voter, it is easy for
psychologists to demonstrate the tricks we play on ourselves to remain

steadfast in our beliefs.
One trick, or cognitive bias, is belief perseverance , when an individual
remains committed to their decision or belief even in the face of evidence against
it. One group of psychologists in the United States demonstrated this in
an interesting experiment conducted during state elections. First, they
recruited participants from the two major political parties. Each of the
participants read about some questionable election-related activities, such
as a group of young adults stealing campaign signs from the opposition

party. What do you think of that activity: Is it stealing or just a fun prank?
If we are logical, then our judgment will be the same regardless of party.
In reality, however, researchers found is that participants judged the act
much more negatively when the culprits (i.e., thieves) were from their
opponent party and, in some cases, even justified the act when the
culprits (i.e., pranksters) were from the same party affiliation (Classen &
Ensley, 2015). By interpreting a generic event to fit their views, the
participants were able to preserve their belief in the integrity of their own
party, not to mention in the flaws of the opposition.
Belief perseverance occurs when information is presented to a person. A
second cognitive bias happens when a person goes out in search for
information. This is the confirmation bias , when an individual searches
for (or pays attention to) only evidence that will confirm his or her beliefs
instead of evidence that might disconfirm them. To continue our political
example, consider how citizens get their news (Figure 8.19 ): they select
from many broadcast, print, and online sources. Around half of Canadian
voters believe these mainstream media have a bias (Anderson & Coletto,
2017). To them, it’s no surprise when a liberal friend turns on the CBC or
a conservative neighbour reads the National Post—that is how an
individual would seek out confirming information. To a large extent, they

would be right. In one experiment, participants were asked to complete a
questionnaire about political beliefs and then to browse websites while

researchers tracked their activity. Participants spent significantly more
time exploring webpages that were consistent with their beliefs, even
when those websites were generally believed to be of poorer quality
(Westerwick et al., 2017). At least in this study, participants were biased

towards confirming their beliefs, not becoming more informed.
Figure 8.19 Canadian News Media and “Fake News”

Slightly more than half of Canadian voters surveyed believe news media
outlets have some political bias. However, the numbers are higher among
millennials than baby boomers, and among conservative voters versus
liberal voters.
Maximizing and Satisficing in Complex

Decisions
One privilege of living in a technologically advanced, democratic
society is that we get to make many decisions for ourselves.

However, for each decision there can be more choices than we
can possibly consider. As a result, two types of consumers have
emerged in our society. Satisficers are individuals who seek to
make decisions that are, simply put, “good enough.” In contrast,
maximizers are individuals who attempt to evaluate every option
for every choice until they find the perfect fit. Most people exhibit
some of both behaviours, satisficing at times and maximizing at
other times. However, if you consider all the people you know,
you can probably identify at least one person who is an extreme
maximizer—they will always be comparing products, jobs,
classes, and so on, to find out who has made the best decisions.
At the same time, you can probably identify an extreme satisficer
—the person who will be satisfied with their choices as long as
they are “good enough.”
What do we know about maximizing and

satisficing?
If one person settles for the good-enough option while another
searches until they find the best possible option, which individual
do you think will be happier with the decision in the end? Most
people believe the maximizer will be happier, but this is not
always the case. In fact, researchers such as Barry Schwartz of
Swarthmore College and his colleagues have no shortage of data
about the paradox of choice, the observation that more choices can
lead to less satisfaction. In one study, the researchers asked
participants to recollect both large (more than $100) and small
(less than $10) purchases and report the number of options they
considered, the time spent shopping and making the decision,
and the overall satisfaction with the purchase. Sure enough, those
who ranked high on a test of maximization invested more time

and effort, but were actually less pleased with the outcome
(Schwartz et al., 2002).
In another study, researchers questioned recent university
graduates about their job search process. Believe it or not,
maximizers averaged 20% higher salaries, but were less happy

about their jobs than satisficers (Iyengar et al., 2006). This
outcome occurred even though we would assume that
maximizers would be more careful when selecting a job—if
humans were perfectly logical decision makers.
So, now we know that just the presence of alternative choices can
drive down satisfaction—but how can that be?
How can science explain maximizing and

satisficing?
To answer this question, researchers asked participants to read
vignettes that included a trade-off between number of choices
and effort (Dar-Nimrod et al., 2009). Try this example for

yourself:
Your cleaning supplies (e.g., laundry detergent, rags, carpet cleaner, dish soap, toilet paper,
glass cleaner) are running low. You have the option of going to the nearest grocery store
(five minutes away) that offers four alternatives for each of the items you need, or you can
drive to the grand cleaning superstore (25 minutes away), which offers 25 alternatives for
each of the items (for approximately the same price). Which store would you go to?
In the actual study, maximizers were much more likely to spend

the extra time and effort to have more choices. Thus, if you
decided to go to the store with more options, you are probably a

maximizer. What this scenario does not tell us is whether having
more or fewer choices was pleasurable for either maximizers or
satisficers.
See how well you understand the nature of maximizers and

satisficers by predicting the results of the next study: Participants
at the University of British Columbia completed a taste test of one

piece of chocolate, but they could choose this piece of chocolate
from an array of 6 pieces or an array of 30 pieces. When there
were 6 pieces, who was happier—maximizers or satisficers? What

happened when there were 30 pieces to choose from? As you can
see in Table 8.2 , the maximizers were happier when there were
fewer options. On a satisfaction scale indicating how much they
enjoyed the piece of chocolate they selected, the maximizers

scored higher in the 6-piece condition (5.64 out of 7) than in the
30-piece condition (4.73 out of 7; Dar-Nimrod et al., 2009). In

contrast, satisficers did not show a statistical difference between
the conditions (5.44 and 6.00 for the 6-piece and 30-piece
conditions, respectively).
Table 8.2 Satisfaction of Maximizers and Satisficers

Source: Adapted from Dar-Nimrod et al. (2009). The Maximization Paradox: The costs
of seeking alternatives. Personality and Individual Differences, 46, 631–635, Figure 1 and
Table 1.

One hypothesis that seeks to explain the dissatisfaction of
maximizers suggests that they invest more in the decision, so
they expect more from the outcome. Imagine that a satisficer and
a maximizer purchase the same digital camera for $175. The

maximizer may have invested significantly more time and effort
into the decision so, in effect, she feels like she paid considerably
more for the camera.
Regardless of the explanation, we should keep in mind that

maximizers and satisficers are preexisting categories. People
cannot be randomly assigned to be in one category or another, so

these findings represent the outcomes of quasi- experimental
research (see Module 2.2 ). We cannot be sure that the act of
maximizing leads to dissatisfaction based on these data. Perhaps
maximizers are the people who are generally less satisfied, which
in turn leads to maximizing behaviour.

The research on maximization suggests that there are some
aspects of our consumer-based society that might actually be
making us less happy. This seems counterintuitive given that the

overwhelming number of product options available to us almost
guarantees that we will get exactly what we want (or think we
want). If you have the tendency to maximize during consumer
purchases, it may help to think about what you want before you
fall into the trap of making dozens of comparisons. Write down

your expectations and stop when you find them in one product.
Fortunately for maximizers, more recent research shows that you
are more likely to plan effectively for the future. This means
better career trajectory, savings for retirement, life satisfaction,

and better overall sense of well-being over time (Kokkoris, 2016;
Zhu et al., 2017). Perhaps an ideal arrangement works like this:
Satisficers should help their maximizing friends enjoy the day-to-
day activities like picking an entrée from a menu. Maximizers, in

turn, can help satisficing friends think about what will happen 10
or 20 years down the road.
Module 8.2 Summary
8.2a Know . . . the key terminology of problem solving and

decision making.
Review Module 8.2
8.2b Understand . . . the characteristics that problems have in

common.
All problems involve people attempting to reach some sort of goal; this
goal can be an observable behaviour like learning to serve a tennis ball or

a cognitive behaviour like learning Canada’s 10 provincial capitals. This
process involves forming strategies that will allow the person to reach the
goal. It may also require a person to overcome one or more obstacles
along the way.
8.2c Understand . . . how obstacles to problem solving are often

self-imposed.
Many obstacles arise from the individual’s mental set, which occurs when
a person focuses on only one potential solution and does not consider
alternatives. Similarly, functional fixedness can arise when an individual
does not consider alternative uses for familiar objects.
8.2d Apply . . . your knowledge to determine if you tend to be a

maximizer or a satisficer.
Apply Activity
Rate the following items on a scale from 1 (completely disagree) to 7
(completely agree), with 4 being a neutral response.
1. Whenever I’m faced with a choice, I try to imagine what all the other
possibilities are, even ones that aren’t present at the moment.
2. No matter how satisfied I am with my job, it’s only right for me to be

on the lookout for better opportunities.
3. When I am in the car listening to the radio, I often check other
stations to see whether something better is playing, even if I am

relatively satisfied with what I’m listening to.
4. When I watch TV, I channel surf, often scanning through the

available options even while attempting to watch one program.
5. I treat relationships like clothing: I expect to try a lot on before

finding the perfect fit.
6. I often find it difficult to shop for a gift for a friend.
7. When shopping, I have a difficult time finding clothing that I really
love.
8. No matter what I do, I have the highest standards for myself.
9. I find that writing is very difficult, even if it’s just writing to a friend,
because it’s so difficult to word things just right. I often do several
drafts of even simple things.

10. I never settle for second best.
When you are finished, average your ratings together to find your overall
score. Scores greater than 4 indicate maximizers; scores less than 4
indicate satisficers. Approximately one-third of the population scores

below 3.25 and approximately one-third scores above 4.75. Where does
your score place you?
8.2e Analyze . . . whether human thought is primarily logical or

intuitive.
This module provides ample evidence that humans are not always logical.
Heuristics are helpful decision-making and problem-solving tools, but
they do not always follow logical principles. Even so, the abundance of
heuristics does not mean that humans are never logical; instead, they
simply point to the limits of our rationality.

Module 8.3 Language and
Communication
Manuela Hartling/Reuters
8.3a Know . . . the key terminology from the study of language.

8.3b Understand . . . how language is structured.
8.3c Understand . . . how genes and the brain are involved in
language use.
8.3d Apply . . . your knowledge to distinguish between units of
language such as phonemes and morphemes.
8.3e Analyze . . . whether species other than humans are able to use
language.
Dog owners are known for attributing a lot of intelligence, emotion, and
“humanness” to their canine pals. Sometimes they may appear to go
overboard—such as Rico’s owners, who claimed their border collie

understood 200 words, most of which referred to different toys and
objects he liked to play with. His owners claimed that they could show
Rico a toy, repeat its name a few times, and toss the toy into a pile of
other objects; Rico would then retrieve the object upon verbal
command. Rico’s ability appeared to go well beyond the usual “sit,”

“stay,” “heel,” and perhaps a few other words that dog owners expect
their companions to understand.
Claims about Rico’s language talents soon drew the attention of

scientists, who skeptically questioned whether the dog was just
responding to cues by the owners, such as their possible looks or

gestures toward the object they asked their pet to retrieve. The scientists
set up a carefully controlled experiment in which no one present in the
room knew the location of the object that was requested. Rico correctly
retrieved 37 out of 40 objects. The experimenters then tested the owners’
claim that Rico could learn object names in just one trial. Rico again
confirmed his owners’ claims, and the researchers concluded that his
ability to understand new words was comparable to that of a three-

year-old child (Kaminski et al., 2004). Following on Rico’s heels was
another border collie named Chaser, who mastered over 1000 words
(Pilley & Reid, 2011).
However, as you will see in this module, canine abilities, while

impressive, are dwarfed by those of humans. Our ability to reorganize
words into complex thoughts is unique in the animal kingdom and may
even have aided our survival as a species.
Communication happens just about anywhere you can find life. Dogs
bark, cats meow, monkeys chatter, and mice can emit sounds
undetectable to the human ear when communicating. Honeybees perform

an elaborate dance to communicate the direction, distance, and quality of
food sources (von Frisch, 1967). Animals even communicate by marking

their territories with their distinct scent, much to the chagrin of the
world’s fire hydrants. Language is among the ways that humans

communicate. It is quite unlike the examples of animal communication
mentioned previously. So what differentiates language from these other

forms of communication? And what is it about our brains that enables us
to turn different sounds we hear into the sophisticated languages found

across different human cultures?
What Is Language?
Language is one of the most intensively studied areas in all of psychology.

Thousands of experiments have been performed to identify different
characteristics of language as well as the brain regions associated with
them. But all fields of study have a birthplace. In the case of the scientific
study of language, it began with an interesting case study of a patient in

Paris in the early 1860s.
Early Studies of Language
In 1861, Paul Broca, a physician and founder of the Society of
Anthropology of Paris, heard of an interesting medical case. The patient
appeared to show a very specific impairment resulting from a stroke
suffered 21 years earlier. He could understand speech and had fairly
normal mental abilities; however, he had great difficulty producing speech

and often found himself uttering single words separated by pauses (uh, er
. . .). In fact, this patient acquired the nickname “Tan” because it was one
of the only sounds that he could reliably produce. Tan had what is known
as aphasia , a language disorder caused by damage to the brain structures
that support using and understanding language.
Tan died a few days after being examined by Broca. During the autopsy,
Broca noted that the brain damage appeared primarily near the back of
the frontal lobes in the left hemisphere. Over the next couple of years,
Broca found 12 other patients with similar symptoms and similar brain
damage, indicating that Tan was not a unique case. This region of the left
frontal lobe that controls our ability to articulate speech sounds that compose
words became known as Broca’s area  (see Figure 8.20 ). The symptoms
associated with damage to this region, as seen in Tan, are known as
Broca’s aphasia.
Figure 8.20 Two Language Centres of the Brain

Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas of the cerebral cortex were among the first
to be associated with language.
The fact that a brain injury could affect one part of language while leaving
others preserved suggested that the ability to use language involves a

number of different processes using different areas of the brain. In the
years following the publication of Broca’s research, other isolated
language impairments were discovered. In 1874, a young Prussian

(German) physician named Carl Wernicke published a short book
detailing his study of different types of aphasia. Wernicke noted that

some of his patients had trouble with language comprehension rather than
language production. These patients typically had damage to the posterior
superior temporal gyrus (the back and top part of the temporal lobe). This
region came to be known as Wernicke’s area , the area of the brain most
associated with finding the meaning of words (see Figure 8.20 ). Damage to
this area results in Wernicke’s aphasia, a language disorder in which a
person has difficulty understanding the words he or she hears. These

patients are also unable to produce speech that other people can
understand—the words are spoken fluently and with a normal intonation

and accent, but these words seem randomly thrown together (i.e., what is
being said does not make sense). Consider the following example:
Examiner: I’d like to have you tell me something about your problem.
Person with Wernicke’s aphasia: Yes, I, ugh, cannot hill all of my way. I cannot talk all of the
things I do, and part of the part I can go alright, but I cannot tell from the other people. I
usually most of my things. I know what can I talk and know what they are, but I cannot always
come back even though I know they should be in, and I know should something eely I should
know what I’m doing . . .
The important thing to look for in this sample of speech is how the wrong
words appear in an otherwise fluent stream of utterances. Contrast this
with an example of Broca’s aphasia:
Examiner: Tell me, what did you do before you retired?
Person with Broca’s aphasia: Uh, uh, uh, pub, par, partender, no.
Examiner: Carpenter?
Person with Broca’s aphasia: (Nodding to signal yes) Carpenter, tuh, tuh, twenty year.
Notice that the individual has no trouble understanding the question or

coming up with the answer. His difficulty is in producing the word
carpenter and then putting it into an appropriate phrase. Did you also
notice the missing “s” from twenty year? This is another characteristic of
Broca’s aphasia: The individual words are often produced without normal
grammatical flair: no articles, suffixes, or prefixes.
Broca’s aphasia can include some difficulties in comprehending language
as well. In general, the more complex the sentence structure, the more
difficult it will be to understand. Compare these two sentences:
The girl played the piano.
The piano was played by the girl.

These are two grammatically correct sentences (although the second is
somewhat awkward) that have the same meaning but are structured
differently. Patients with damage to Broca’s area would find it much more
difficult to understand the second sentence than the first. This
impairment suggests that the distinction between speech production and
comprehension is not as simple as was first thought.
Broca and Wernicke reported their clinical work around 150 years ago,
before anyone thought about the psychology of language. In the late 20th
century, language became a central topic of research in psychology, and

researchers quickly realized that this ability—or set of abilities—is among
the most complex processes humans perform. Because of this, you are
unlikely to find professionals such as neuropsychologists or speech
pathologists referring to Broca’s area and Wernicke’s area by those
names. Instead, research has progressed to the point where professionals
can see the brain in much more detail (Tremblay & Dick, 2016). Still,
Broca and Wernicke provide an interesting beginning to the study of
language, and a useful way of thinking about the elements of language to
those of us who merely use it, rather than study all of its intricacies.
Properties of Language
Language, like many other cognitive abilities, flows so automatically that
we often overlook how complicated it really is. However, cases like those
just described show us that language is indeed a complex set of skills.
Researchers define language  as a form of communication that involves the
use of spoken, written, or gestural symbols that are combined in a rule-based

form. With this definition in mind, we can distinguish which features of
language make it a unique form of communication.
Language can involve communication about objects and events that
are not in the present time and place. We can use language to talk
about events happening on another planet or that are happening
within atoms. We can also use different tenses to indicate that the
topic of the sentence occurred or will occur at a different time. For
instance, you can say to your roommate, “I’m going to order pizza
tonight,” without them thinking the pizza is already there.

Languages can produce entirely new meanings. It is possible to
produce a sentence that has never been uttered before in the history
of humankind, simply by reorganizing words in different ways. As
long as you select English words and use correct grammar, others
who know the language should be able to understand it. You can also
use words in novel ways. Imagine the tabloid newspaper headline:
Bat Boy Found in Cave! In North American culture, “bat boys” are
regular kids who keep track of the baseball bats for baseball players.
In this particular tabloid, the story concerned a completely novel

creature that was part bat and part boy. Both meanings could be
correct, depending upon the context in which the term bat boy is
used.
Language is passed down from parents to children. As we will discuss
later in this module, children learn to pay attention to the particular
sounds of their native language(s) at the expense of other sounds
(Werker, 2003). Children also learn words and grammatical rules
from parents, teachers, and peers. In other words, even if we have a
natural inclination to learn a language, experience dictates which
language(s) we will speak.
Language requires us to link different sounds (or gestures) with different
meanings in order to understand and communicate with other people.
Therefore, understanding more about these seemingly simple elements of
language is essential for understanding language as a whole.

Words can be arranged or combined in novel ways to produce ideas that
have never been expressed before.
Weekly World News

Phonemes and Morphemes: The Basic
Ingredients of Language
Languages contain discrete units that exist at differing levels of
complexity. When people speak, they assemble these units into larger
and more complex units. Some psychologists have used a cooking

analogy to explain this phenomenon: We all start with the same basic
language ingredients, but they can be mixed together in an unlimited
number of ways (Pinker, 1999).
Phonemes  are the most basic of units of speech sounds. You can identify
phonemes rather easily; the phoneme associated with the letter t (which
is written as/t/, where the two forward slashes indicate a phoneme) is
found at the end of the word pot or near the beginning of the word stop. If
you pay close attention to the way you use your tongue, lips, and vocal
cords, you will see that phonemes have slight variations depending on
the other letters around them. Pay attention to how you pronounce
the/t/phoneme in stop, stash, stink, and stoke. Your mouth will move in
slightly different ways each time, and there will be very slight variations
in sound, but they are still the same basic phoneme. Individual phonemes
typically do not have any meaning by themselves; if you want someone to
stop doing something, asking him to/t/will not suffice.
Morphemes  are the smallest meaningful units of a language. Some
morphemes are simple words, whereas others may be suffixes or prefixes.

For example, the word pig is a morpheme—it cannot be broken down into
smaller units of meaning. You can combine morphemes, however, if you
follow the rules of the language. If you want to pluralize pig, you can add
the morpheme/-s/, which will give you pigs. If you want to describe a
person as a pig, you can add the morpheme/-ish/to get piggish. In fact,
you can add all kinds of morphemes to a word as long as you follow the
rules. You could even say piggable (able to be pigged) or piggify (to turn
into a pig). These words do not make much literal sense, but they
combine morphemes according to the rules; thus we can make a
reasonable guess as to the speaker’s intended meaning. Our ability to
combine morphemes into words is one distinguishing feature of language

that sets it apart from other forms of communication (e.g., we don’t
produce a lengthy series of facial expressions to communicate a new
idea). In essence, language gives us productivity—the ability to combine
units of sound into an infinite number of meanings.
Review Distinguishing Phonemes from Morphemes

Finally, there are the words that make up a language. Semantics  is the
study of how people come to understand meaning from words. Humans have a
knack for this kind of interpretation, and each of us has an extensive

mental dictionary to prove it. Not only do most speakers know tens of
thousands of words, but they can often understand new words they have
never heard before based on their understanding of morphemes.
Although phonemes, morphemes, and semantics have an obvious role in

spoken language, they also play a role in our ability to read. When you
recognize a word, you effortlessly translate the word’s visual form

(known as its orthography) into the sounds that make up that word
(known as its phonology or phonological code). These sounds are combined

into a word, at which point you can access its meaning or semantics.
However, not all people are able to translate orthography into sounds.
Individuals with dyslexia have difficulties translating words into speech
sounds. Indeed, children with dyslexia show less activity in the left
fusiform cortex (at the bottom of the brain where the temporal and
occipital lobes meet), a brain area involved with word recognition and
with linking word and sound representations (Desroches et al., 2010).
This difficulty linking letters with phonemes leads to unusually slow
reading in both children and adults despite the fact that these people
have normal hearing and are cognitively and neurologically healthy
(Desroches & Joanisse, 2009; Shaywitz, 1998).
This research into the specific impairments associated with dyslexia

allows scientists and educators to develop treatment programs to help
children improve their reading and language abilities. One of the most
successful programs has been developed by Maureen Lovett and her
colleagues at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto and Brock

University. Their Phonological and Strategy Training (PHAST) program
(now marketed as EmpowerTM Reading to earn research money for the
hospital) has been used to assist over 6000 students with reading
disabilities. Rather than focusing on only one aspect of language, this
program teaches children new word-identification and reading-
comprehension strategies while also educating them about how words

and phrases are structured (so that they know what to expect when they
see new words or groups of words). Children who completed these
programs showed improvements on a number of measures of reading and

passage comprehension (Frijters et al., 2013; Lovett et al., 2012). Given
that 5% to 15% of the population has some form of reading impairment,
treatment programs like PHAST could have a dramatic effect on our
educational system.
As you can see, languages derive their complexity from several elements,
including phonemes, morphemes, and semantics. And when these
systems are not functioning properly, language abilities suffer. But
phonemes, morphemes, and semantics are just the list of the ingredients
of language—we still need to figure out how to mix these ingredients
together.
Syntax: The Language Recipe
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of language is syntax , the rules for
combining words and morphemes into meaningful phrases and sentences—the
recipe for language. Children master the syntax of their native language
before they leave elementary school. They can string together
morphemes and words when they speak, and they can easily distinguish
between well-formed and ill-formed sentences. But despite mastering
those rules, most speakers cannot tell you what the rules are; syntax just
seems to come naturally. It might seem odd that people can do so much
with language without a full understanding of its inner workings. Of
course, people can also learn how to walk without any understanding of
the biochemistry that allows their leg muscles to contract and relax.
The most basic units of syntax are nouns and verbs. They are all that is
required to construct a well-formed sentence, such as Goats eat. Noun–
verb sentences are perfectly adequate, if a bit limited, so we build phrases

out of nouns and verbs, as the diagram in Figure 8.21  demonstrates.
Figure 8.20 Syntax: The Structure and Rules of a Language

Source: Adapted from The Language Instinct by S. Pinker, HarperCollins, 1994.
Syntax also helps explain why the order of words in a sentence has such a
strong effect on what the sentence means. For example, how would you
make a question out of this statement?
A. A goat is in the garden.
B. IS a goat in the garden?
This example demonstrates that a statement (A) can be turned into a

well-formed question (B) just by moving the verb is to the beginning of
the sentence. Perhaps that is one of the hidden rules of syntax. Try it
again:
A. A goat that is eating a flower is in the garden.

B. IS a goat that eating a flower is in the garden?
As you can see, the rule “move is to the beginning of the sentence” does
not apply in this case. Do you know why? It is because we moved the
wrong is. The phrase that is eating a flower is a part of the noun phrase
because it describes the goat. We should have moved the is from the verb
phrase. Try it again:
A. A goat that is eating a flower is in the garden.

B. IS a goat that is eating a flower in the garden?
This is a well-formed sentence. It may be grammatically awkward, but the

syntax is understandable (Pinker, 1994).
As you can see from these examples, the order of words in a sentence
helps determine what the sentence means, and syntax is the set of rules
we use to determine that order.
Pragmatics: The Finishing Touches
If syntax is the recipe for language, pragmatics is the icing on the cake.
Pragmatics  is the study of nonlinguistic elements of language use. It places
heavy emphasis on the speaker’s behaviours and the social situation
(Carston, 2002).
Pragmatics reminds us that sometimes what is said is not as important as
how it is said. For example, a student who says, “I ate a 50-pound
cheeseburger” is most likely stretching the truth, but you probably would
not call him a liar. Pragmatics helps us understand what he implied. The
voracious student was actually flouting—or blatantly disobeying—a rule of

language in a way that is obvious (Grice, 1975; Horn & Ward, 2004).
There are all sorts of ways in which flouting the rules can lead to implied,
rather than literal, meanings; samples of these are shown in Table 8.3 .
Table 8.3 Pragmatic Rules Guiding Language Use

Importantly, pragmatics depends upon both the speaker (or writer) and
listener (or reader) understanding that rules are being flouted in order to
produce a desired meaning. If you speak with visitors from a different
country, you may find that they don’t understand what you mean when
you flout the rules of Canadian English or use slang (shortened
language). When we say “The goalie stood on his head,” most hockey-
mad Canadians understand that we are commenting on a goaltender’s
amazing game; however, someone new to hockey would be baffled by
this expression. This is another example of how experience—in this case

with a culture—influences how we use and interpret language.
The Development of Language
Human vocal tracts are capable of producing approximately 200

phonemes. However, no language uses all of these sounds. Jul’hoan, one
of the “clicking languages” of Botswana, contains almost 100 sounds
(including over 80 different consonant sounds). In contrast, English
contains about 40 sounds. But if Canadians are genetically identical to

people in southern Africa, why are our languages different? And why
can’t we produce and distinguish between some of the sounds of these
other languages? It turns out that experience plays a major role in your
ability to speak the language, or languages, that you do.

Infants, Sound Perception, and Language
Acquisition
Say the following phrase out loud: “Your doll.” Now, say this phrase:
“This doll.” Did you notice a difference in how you pronounced doll in
these two situations? If English is your first language, it is quite likely that
you didn’t notice the slight change in how the letter d was expressed. But
Hindi speakers would have no problem making this distinction. To them,
the two instances of the word doll would be pronounced differently and
would mean lentils and branch, respectively.
Janet Werker of the University of British Columbia and her colleagues
found that very young English-learning infants are able to distinguish
between these two d sounds. But, by 10 months of age, the infants begin
hearing sounds in a way that is consistent with their native language;
because English has only one d sound, English-learning infants stop

detecting the difference between these two sounds (Werker & Tees, 1984;
Werker et al., 2012). This change is not a weakness on the part of English-
learning infants. Rather, it is evidence that they are learning the statistical
principles of their language. Infants who hear only English words will
group different pronunciations of the letter d into one category because
that is how this sound is used in English. Hindi-learning children will
learn to separate different types of d sounds because this distinction is
important. A related study using two k sounds from an Interior Salish
(Indigenous) language from British Columbia produced similar results—

English-learning infants showed a significant drop-off in hearing sounds
for the non-English language after 8 to 10 months (Werker & Tees, 1984).
In addition to becoming experts at identifying the sounds of their own
language, infants also learn how to separate a string of sounds into
meaningful groups (i.e., into words). Infants as young as two months old
show a preference for speech sounds over perceptually similar non-
speech sounds (Vouloumanos & Werker, 2004). And, when presented
with pronounceable non-words (e.g., strak), infants prefer to hear words
that follow the rules of their language. An English-learning baby would

prefer non-words beginning in str to those beginning in rst because there
are a large number of English words that begin with str (Jusczyk et al.,
1993). Additionally, newborn infants can distinguish between function
words (e.g., prepositions) and content words (e.g., nouns and verbs)
based on their sound properties (Shi et al., 1999). By six months of age,
infants prefer the content words (Shi & Werker, 2001), thus showing that
they are learning which sounds are most useful for understanding the
meaning of a statement.
By the age of 20 months, the children are able to use the perceptual
categories that they developed in order to rapidly learn new words. In

some cases, children can perform fast mapping —the ability to map words
onto concepts or objects after only a single exposure. Human children seem to
have a fast-mapping capacity that is superior to any other organism on
the planet. This skill is one potential explanation for the naming explosion,
a rapid increase in vocabulary size that occurs at this stage of
development.
The naming explosion has two biological explanations as well. First, at
this stage of development, the brain begins to perform language-related

functions in the left hemisphere, similar to the highly efficient adult brain;
prior to this stage, this information was stored and analyzed by both
hemispheres (Mills et al., 1997). Second, the naming explosion has also
been linked to an increase in the amount of myelin on the brain’s axons, a
change that would increase the speed of communication between

neurons (Pujol et al., 2006). These changes would influence not only the
understanding of language, but also how a child uses language to convey

increasingly complex thoughts such as “How does Spider-Man stick to
walls?” and “Why did Dad’s hair fall out?”

Producing Spoken Language
Learning to identify and organize speech sounds is obviously an
important part of language development. An equally critical skill is
producing speech that other people will be able to understand. Early
psychologists focused only on behavioural approaches to language
learning. They believed that language was learned through imitating

sounds and being reinforced for pronouncing and using words correctly
(Skinner, 1985). Although it is certainly true that imitation and
reinforcement are involved in language acquisition, they are only one
part of this complex process (Messer, 2000). Here are a few examples that
illustrate how learning through imitation and reinforcement is just one

component of language development:
Children often produce phrases that include incorrect grammar or
word forms. Because adults do not (often) use these phrases, it is
highly unlikely that such phrases are imitations.

Children learn irregular verbs and pluralizations on a word-by-word
basis. At first, they will use ran and geese correctly. However, when
children begin to use grammar on their own, they over-generalize the
rules. A child who learns the/-ed/morpheme for past tense will start
saying runned instead of ran. When they learn that/-s/means more
than one, they will begin to say gooses instead of geese. It is also
unlikely that children would produce these forms by imitating.
When children use poor grammar, or when they over-generalize their
rules, parents may try to correct them. Although children will

acknowledge their parents’ attempts at instruction, this method does
not seem to work. Instead, children go right back to over-
generalizing.
In light of these and many other examples, it seems clear that an
exclusively behaviourist approach falls short in explaining how language
is learned. After all, there are profound differences in the success of
children and adults in learning a new language: Whereas adults typically
struggle, children seem to learn the language effortlessly. If reinforcement
and imitation were the primary means by which language was acquired,
then adults should be able to learn just as well as children.
The fact that children seem to learn language differently than adults has
led psychologists to use the term language acquisition when referring to
children instead of language learning. The study of language acquisition
has revealed remarkable similarities among children from all over the
world. Regardless of the language, children seem to develop this
capability in stages, as shown in Table 8.4 .
Table 8.4 Milestones in Language Acquisition and Speech

Sensitive Periods for Language
The phases of language development described above suggest that
younger brains are particularly well-suited to acquiring languages; this is
not the case for older brains. Imagine a family with two young children
who immigrated to Canada from a remote Russian village where no one
spoke English. The parents would struggle with English courses, while
the children would attend English-speaking schools. Within a few years,
the parents would have accumulated some vocabulary but they would
likely still have difficulty with pronunciation and grammar (Russian-
speaking people often omit articles such as the). Meanwhile, their
children would likely pick up English without much effort and have
language skills equivalent to those of their classmates; they would have
roughly the same vocabulary, the same accents, and even the same slang.
Why can children pick up a language so much more easily than adults?
Most psychologists agree that there is a sensitive period for language—a

time during childhood in which children’s brains are primed to develop
language skills (see also Module 10.1 ). Children can absorb language
almost effortlessly, but this ability seems to fade away starting around age
seven. Thus, when families immigrate to a country that uses a different
language, young children are able to pick up this language much more
quickly than their parents (Hakuta et al., 2003; Hernandez & Li, 2007).
A stunning example of critical periods comes from Nicaragua. Until 1979,
there was no sign language in this Central American country. Because

there were no schools for people with hearing impairments, there was no
(perceived) need for a common sign language. When the first schools for
the deaf were established, adults and teenaged students attempted to
learn to read lips. While few mastered this skill, these students did do
something even more astonishing: They developed their own primitive
sign language. This language, Lenguaje de Signos Nicaragüese (LSN),
involves a number of elaborate gestures similar to a game of charades and
did not have a consistent set of grammatical rules. But it was a start.
Children who attended these schools at an early age (i.e., during the
sensitive period for language acquisition) used this language as the basis
for a more fluent version of sign language: Idioma de Signos Nicaragüese
(ISN). ISN has grammatical rules and can be used to express a number of
complicated, abstract ideas (Pinker, 1994). It is now the standard sign
language in Nicaragua. The difference between LSN and ISN is similar to
the difference between adults and children learning a new language. If
you acquire the new language during childhood, you will be much more
fluent than if you try to acquire it during adulthood (Senghas, 2003;
Senghas et al., 2004).

The Bilingual Brain
Let’s go back to the example of the Russian-speaking family who
immigrated to balmy Canada. The young children learning English would
also be speaking Russian at home with their parents. As a result, they
would be learning two languages essentially at the same time. What effect
would this situation have on their ability to learn each language?
Bilingualism leads to many benefits (see below), but there are some costs
associated with it as well. Bilingual children tend to have a smaller
vocabulary in each language than unilingual children (Mahon &
Crutchley, 2006). In adulthood, this difference is shown not by

vocabulary size, but by how easily bilinguals can access words. Compared
to unilingual adults, bilingual adults are slower at naming pictures
(Roberts et al., 2002), have more difficulty on tests that ask them to list
words starting with a particular letter (Rosselli et al., 2000), and have
more tip-of-the-tongue experiences in which they can’t quite retrieve a

word (Gollan & Acenas, 2004). These problems with accessing words
may be due to the fact that they use each language less than a unilingual
person would use their single language (Michael & Gollan, 2005). So,
clearly bilingualism comes at a cost; fortunately, these costs are relatively
cheap.
The benefits of bilingualism appear to far outweigh the costs. One
difference that has been repeatedly observed is that bilingual individuals
are much better than their unilingual counterparts on tests that require
them to control their attention or their thoughts. These abilities, known
as executive functions (or executive control), enable people who speak more
than one language to inhibit one language while speaking and listening to
another (or to limit the interference across languages). If they didn’t, they
would produce confusing sentences like The chien is tres sick. Although
most of you can figure out that this person is talking about a sick dog, you
can see how such sentences would make communication challenging.
Researchers have found that bilinguals score better than unilinguals on
tests of executive control throughout the lifespan, beginning in infancy
(Kovacs & Mehler, 2009) and the toddler years (Poulin-Dubois et al.,
2011) and continuing throughout adulthood (Costa et al., 2008) and into
old age (Bialystok et al., 2004). Bilingualism has also recently been shown
to have important health benefits. Because the executive control involved
with bilingualism uses areas in the frontal lobes, these regions may form
more connections in bilinguals than unilinguals (Bialystok, 2009, 2011a,
2011b). As a result, these brains likely have more back-up systems if
damage occurs. Indeed, Ellen Bialystok at York University and her
colleagues have shown that being bilingual helps protect against the
onset of dementia and Alzheimer’s disease (Bialystok et al., 2007;

Schweizer et al., 2012), a finding that leaves many at a loss for words.
Watch Thinking Like a Psychologist Multilingualism: Speaking One's Mind

Genes, Evolution, and Language
This module began with a discussion of two brain areas that are critical
for language production and comprehension: Broca’s area and Wernicke’s
area, respectively. But, these brain areas didn’t appear out of nowhere.
Rather, genetics and evolutionary pressures led to the development of our
language-friendly brains. Given recent advances in our understanding of

the human genome (see Module 3.1 ), it should come as no surprise that
researchers are actively searching for the genes involved with language
abilities.
The fact that animals such as songbirds have some of the same language-
related genes as humans suggests that other species may have some
language abilities. As it turns out, many monkey species have areas in
their brains that are similar to Broca’s and Wernicke’s area. As in humans,
these regions are connected by white-matter pathways, thus allowing the
areas to communicate with each other (Galaburda & Pandya, 1982).
These areas appear to be involved with the control of facial and throat
muscles and with identifying when other monkeys have made a
vocalization. This is, of course, a far cry from human language. But the
fact that some monkey species have similar “neural hardware” to humans
does lead to some interesting speculations about language abilities in the
animal kingdom.
Genes and Language
Given that language is a universal trait of the human species, it
likely involves a number of different genes. These genes would,

of course, also interact with the environment. In this section we
examine whether it is possible that specific genes are related to
language.
What do we know about genes and language?

Many scientists believe that the evidence is overwhelming that
language is a unique feature of the human species, and that

language evolved to solve problems related to survival and
reproductive fitness. Language adds greater efficiency to thought,
allows us to transmit information without requiring us to have
direct experience with potentially dangerous situations, and,
ultimately, facilitates communicating social needs and desires.
Claims that language promotes survival and reproductive success
are difficult to test directly with scientific experimentation, but
there is a soundness to the logic of the speculation. We can also
move beyond speculation and actually examine how genes play a

role in human language. As with all complex psychological traits,
there are likely many genes associated with language.
Nevertheless, amid all of these myriad possibilities, one gene has
been identified that is of particular importance.

How can science explain a genetic basis of
language?
Studies of this gene initially focused on the KE family (their name
is abbreviated to maintain their confidentiality). Many members
of this family have inherited a mutated version of a gene on
chromosome 7 (see Figure 8.22 ; Vargha-Khadem et al., 2005).
Each gene has a name—and this one is called FOXP2. All humans
carry a copy of the FOXP2 gene, but the KE family passes down a
mutated copy. Those who inherit the mutated copy have great
difficulty putting thoughts into words (Tomblin et al., 2009).

Since the original studies of the KE family, additional studies on
other families have confirmed the role of FOXP2 in language
production (Reuter et al., 2017). Thus, it appears that the physical
and chemical processes that FOXP2 codes for are related to
language function.
Figure 8.22 Inheritance Pattern for the Mutated FOXP2 Gene in the KE Family
Family members who are “affected” have inherited a mutated

form of the FOXP2 gene, which results in difficulty with
articulating words. As you can see from the centre of the figure,
the mutated gene is traced to a female family member and has
been passed on to the individuals of the next two generations.
Source: Republished with permission of Nature Publishing Group, from Vargha-

Khadem, F., Gadian, D. G., Copp, A., & Mishkin, M. (2005). FOXP2 and the
neuroanatomy of speech and language, Fig. 1, Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 6, 131–138.
Copyright 2005; permission conveyed through Copyright Clearance Center, Inc.
What evidence indicates that this gene is specifically involved in
language? If you were to ask the members of the family who

inherited the mutant form of the gene to speak about how to
change the batteries in a flashlight, they would be at a loss. A

rather jumbled mixture of sounds and words might come out, but
nothing that could be easily understood. However, these same

individuals have no problem actually performing the task. Their
challenges with using language are primarily restricted to the use

of words, not with their ability to think.
Scientists have used brain imaging methods to further test

whether the FOXP2 mutation affects language. One group of
researchers compared brain activity of family members who

inherited the mutation of FOXP2 with those who did not
(Liégeois et al., 2003). During the brain scans, the participants

were asked to generate words themselves, and also to repeat
words back to the experimenters. As you can see from Figure

8.23 , the members of the family who were unaffected by the
mutation showed normal brain activity: Broca’s area of the left
hemisphere became activated, just as expected. In contrast,

Broca’s area in the affected family members was silent, and the
brain activity that did occur was unusual for this type of task.
Figure 8.23
Brain Scans Taken While Members of the KE Family Completed a Speech Task
The unaffected group shows a normal pattern of activity in
Broca’s area, while the affected group shows an unusual pattern.
Source: Figure 1 republished with permission of Nature Publishing Group, from

Liégeois, F., Badeweg, T., Connelly, A., Gadian, D. G., Mishkin, M., & Vargha-Khadem,
F. (2003). Language fMRI abnormalities associated with FOXP2 gene mutation, Figure
1, Nature Neuroscience, 6, 1230–1237, Copyright © 2003. permission conveyed through
Copyright Clearance Center, Inc.

As you have now read, language has multiple components. Being
able to articulate words is just one of many aspects of using and
understanding language. The research on FOXP2 is very
important, but reveals only how a single gene relates to one
aspect of language use. There are almost certainly a large number

of genes working together to produce each component of
language. To their credit, FOXP2 researchers are quick to point
out that many other genes will need to be identified before we
can claim to understand the genetic basis of language; FOXP2 is
just the beginning.
It is also worth noting that although the FOXP2 gene affects

human speech production, it does occur in other species that do
not produce sophisticated language. This gene is found in both
mice and birds as well as in humans, and the human version
shares a very similar molecular structure to the versions observed
in these other species. Interestingly, the molecular structure and

activity of the FOXP2 gene in songbirds (unlike non-songbirds) is
similar to that in humans, again highlighting its possible role in
producing meaningful sounds (Vargha-Khadem et al., 2005).

This work illuminates at least part of the complex relationship
between genes and language. Other individual genes that have
direct links to language function will likely be discovered as

research continues. It is possible that this information could be
used to help us further understand the genetic basis of language
disorders. The fact that the FOXP2 gene is found in many other
species suggests that it may play a role in one of the components

of language rather than being the gene for language. Thus,
scientists will have to perform additional research in order to
understand why and how human language became so much
more complex than that of any other species.
Can Animals Use Language?
Psychologists have been studying whether nonhuman species can acquire
human language for many decades. Formal studies of language learning
in nonhuman species gained momentum in the mid-1950s when
psychologists attempted to teach spoken English to a chimpanzee named
Viki (Hayes & Hayes, 1951). Viki was cross-fostered , meaning that she
was raised as a member of a family that was not of the same species. Like
humans, chimps come into the world dependent on adults for care, so the
humans who raised Viki were basically foster parents. Although the
psychologists learned a lot about how smart chimpanzees can be, they
did not learn that Viki was capable of language—she managed to whisper
only about four words after several years of trying.
Psychologists who followed in these researchers’ footsteps did not
consider the case to be closed. Perhaps Viki’s failure to learn spoken
English was a limitation not of the brain, but of physical differences in the
vocal tract and tongue that distinguish humans and chimpanzees. One
project that began in the mid-1960s involved teaching chimpanzees to
use American Sign Language (ASL). The first chimpanzee involved in this
project was named Washoe. The psychologists immersed Washoe in an
environment rich with ASL, using signs instead of speaking and keeping
at least one adult present and communicating with her throughout the
day. By the time she turned two years old, Washoe had acquired about 35
signs through imitation and direct guidance of how to configure and
move her hands. Eventually, she learned approximately 200 signs. She
was able to generalize signs from one context to another and to use a sign
to represent entire categories of objects, not just specific examples. For
example, while Washoe learned the sign for the word open on a limited
number of doors and cupboards, she subsequently signed “open” to many
different doors, cupboards, and even her pop bottles. The findings with
Washoe were later replicated in other chimps (Gardner et al., 1989).
Washoe was the first chimpanzee taught to use some of the signs of
American Sign Language. Washoe died in 2007 at age 42 and throughout
her life challenged many to examine their beliefs about human
uniqueness.
Photo permission granted by Friends of Washoe

Instead of using sign language, some researchers have developed a
completely artificial language to teach to apes. This language consists of
symbols called lexigrams—small keys on a computerized board that

represent words and, therefore, can be combined to form complex ideas
and phrases. One subject of the research using this language is a bonobo
named Kanzi (bonobos are another species of chimpanzee). Kanzi has
learned approximately 350 symbols through training, but he learned his

first symbols simply by watching as researchers attempted to teach his
mother how to use the language. In addition to the lexigrams he
produces, Kanzi seems to recognize about 3000 spoken words. His

trainers claim that Kanzi’s skills constitute language (Savage-Rumbaugh
& Lewin, 1994). They argue that he can understand symbols and at least
some syntax; that he acquired symbols simply by being around others
who used them; and that he produced symbols without specific training
or reinforcement. Those who work with Kanzi conclude that his
communication skills are quite similar to those of a young human in

terms of both the elements of language (semantics and syntax) and the
acquisition of language (natural and without effortful training).
Despite their ability to communicate in complex ways, debate continues
to swirl about whether these animals are using language. Many language
researchers point out that chimpanzees’ signing and artificial language
use is very different from how humans use language. Is the vastness of
the difference important? Is using 200 signs different in some critical way
from being able to use 4000 signs, roughly the number found in the ASL
dictionary (Stokoe et al., 1976)? If our only criterion for whether a
communication system constitutes language is the number of words used,

then we can say that nonhuman species acquire some language skills
after extensive training. But as you have learned in this module, human
language involves more than just using words. In particular, our
manipulation of phonemes, morphemes, and syntax allow us to utter an
infinite number of words and sentences, thereby conveying an infinite
number of thoughts.
Kanzi is a bonobo chimpanzee that has learned to use an artificial

language consisting of graphical symbols that correspond to words. Kanzi
can type out responses by pushing buttons with these symbols, shown in
this photo. Researchers are also interested in Kanzi’s ability to understand
spoken English (which is transmitted to the headphones by an
experimenter who is not in the room).
MICHAEL NICHOLS/National Geographic Creative
Some researchers who have worked closely with language-trained apes

observed too many critical differences between humans and chimps to
conclude that language extends beyond our species (Seidenberg &
Pettito, 1979). For example:
One major argument is that apes are communicating only with

symbols, not with the phrase-based syntax used by humans.
Although some evidence of syntax has been reported, the majority of
their “utterances” consist of single signs, a couple of signs strung
together, or apparently random sequences.
There is little reputable experimental evidence showing that apes

pass their language skills to other apes.
Productivity—creating new words (gestures) and using existing
gestures to name new objects or events—is rare, if it occurs at all.
Some of the researchers become very engaged in the lives of these
animals and talk about them as friends and family members (Fouts,
1997; Savage-Rumbaugh & Lewin, 1994). This tendency has left
critics to wonder the extent to which personal attachments to the
animals might interfere with the objectivity of the data.
It must be pointed out that the communication systems of different

animals have their own adaptive functions. It is possible that some
species simply didn’t have a need to develop a complex form of language.
However, in the case of chimpanzees, this point doesn’t hold true. Both
humans and chimpanzees evolved in small groups in (for the most part)
similar parts of the world; thus, chimpanzees would have faced many of
the same social and environmental pressures as humans. However, their
brains, although quite sophisticated, are not as large or well-developed as
those of humans. It seems, therefore, that a major factor in humanity’s

unique language abilities is the wonderful complexity and plasticity of the
human brain.
Module 8.3 Summary
8.3a Know . . . the key terminology from the study of language.
Review Module 8.3
8.3b Understand . . . how language is structured.
Sentences are broken down into words that are arranged according to
grammatical rules (syntax). The relationship between words and their
meaning is referred to as semantics. Words can be broken down into

morphemes, the smallest meaningful units of speech, and phonemes, the
smallest sound units that make up speech.
8.3c Understand . . . how genes and the brain are involved in

language use.
Studies of the KE family show that the FOXP2 gene is involved in our
ability to speak. However, mutation to this gene does not necessarily
impair people’s ability to think. Thus, the FOXP2 gene seems to be
important for just one of many aspects of human language. Multiple brain
areas are involved in language—two particularly important ones are
Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas.
8.3d Apply . . . your knowledge to distinguish between units of

language such as phonemes and morphemes.
Apply Activity
Which of these represent a single phoneme and which represent a
morpheme? Do any of them represent both?
1. /dis/
2. /s/
3. /k/
8.3e Analyze . . . whether species other than humans are able to

use language.
Nonhuman species certainly seem capable of acquiring certain aspects of

human language. Studies with apes have shown that they can learn and
use some sign language or, in the case of Kanzi, an artificial language
system involving arbitrary symbols. However, critics have pointed out
that many differences between human and nonhuman language use
remain.
Chapter 9
Intelligence Testing
9.1 Measuring Intelligence
Different Approaches to Intelligence Testing
The Checkered Past of Intelligence Testing
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Beliefs about
Intelligence
Module 9.1 Summary
9.2 Understanding Intelligence

Intelligence as a Single, General Ability
Intelligence as Multiple, Specific Abilities
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Testing for Fluid and
Crystallized Intelligence
The Battle of the Sexes
Module 9.2 Summary
9.3 Biological, Environmental, and Behavioural Influences on
Intelligence
Biological Influences on Intelligence
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Brain Size and
Intelligence
Environmental Influences on Intelligence
Behavioural Influences on Intelligence
Module 9.3 Summary

Module 9.1 Measuring Intelligence
Leilani Muir, who passed away in Alberta in 2016.
The Canadian Press/Edmonton Journal.
9.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with intelligence and
intelligence testing.
9.1b Understand . . . the reasoning behind the eugenics movements
and its use of intelligence tests.
9.1c Apply . . . the concepts of entity theory and incremental theory
to help kids succeed in school.
9.1d Analyze . . . why it is difficult to remove all cultural bias from
intelligence testing.
Leilani Muir kept trying to get pregnant, but to no avail. Frustrated, she
asked her physician if there was a medical explanation. An

examination found one, but it was totally unexpected; her fallopian
tubes had been surgically destroyed, leaving her unable to ever
conceive. How could this procedure happen without her knowledge?
Tragically, forced sterilization was a legal medical practice in the
United States and parts of Canada for almost half of the 20th century.
In 1928, Alberta passed the Sexual Sterilization Act, giving doctors
the power to sterilize people deemed to be “genetically unfit,”often due to

a very low score on an IQ test. Moreover, physicians could perform this
procedure without a patient’s consent or knowledge.
Leilani Muir is one of the tens of thousands of victims of the misguided
application of intelligence tests. Born into a poor farming family near

Calgary, Alberta, Leilani was entered by her parents into the Provincial
Training School for Mental Defectives when she was 11. A few years
later, when given an intelligence test, she scored 64, which was below
the 70 point cut-off required by law for forced sterilization. When she
was 14, she was told by doctors she needed to have her appendix
removed. Trusting these professionals, she went under the knife, never
knowing the full extent of the surgery she was about to undergo. After
the surgery, she was never informed that her fallopian tubes had been
destroyed, and had to find out on her own after her many attempts to
get pregnant. Later in her life, Leilani had her IQ re-tested. She scored
89, which is close to average.
In 1996, Leilani received some measure of justice. She sued the
government of Alberta and won her case, becoming the first person to
receive compensation for injustices committed under the Sexual
Sterilization Act. For her lifetime of not being able to have children, she
received almost $750 000 in damages.
What happened to Leilani Muir seems almost unthinkable today. But this
story also serves to drive home two extremely important truths about
psychology, and science in general—it is extremely important to measure

things properly and to interpret measurements cautiously. This may
sound trite, but Leilani’s story underscores the importance of ensuring

that the research carried out in psychology and other disciplines is as
rigorous as possible. Research isn’t just about writing complicated articles

that only scientists and academics read; its real-world implications can
ripple through society and affect people’s lives in countless ways. In
Leilani’s case, her misfortune was the result of both inhumane policies
passed by the government and the failure to accurately measure her
intelligence. Intelligence is not something like the length or mass of a

physical object. There is no “objective” standard to which we can
compare our measures to see if they are accurate. Instead, we have to rely
upon rigorous testing of our methodologies.
So, how can we measure intelligence accurately? What does science say?
As you will see in this module, this question is not easy to answer.
Intelligence measures have a very checkered past, making the whole
notion of intelligence one of the most hotly contested areas in all of
psychology.
Different Approaches to Intelligence
Testing
Intelligence is a surprisingly difficult concept to define. You undoubtedly
know people who earn similar grades even though one may seem to be
“smarter” than the other. You likely also know people who do very well in
school and have “book smarts,” but have difficulty in many other aspects
of life, perhaps lacking “street smarts.” Furthermore, you may perceive a

person to be intelligent or unintelligent, but how do you know your
perceptions are not biased by their confidence, social skills, or other
qualities? The history of psychology has seen many attempts to define
and measure intelligence. In this module, we will examine some of the
more influential of these attempts, and then explore some of the

important social implications of intelligence testing.
Francis Galton believed that intelligence was something people inherit.
Thus, he believed that an individual’s relatives were a better predictor of
intelligence than practice and effort.
Mary Evans Picture Library/Alamy Stock Photo

Intelligence and Perception: Galton’s
Anthropometric Approach
The systematic attempt to measure intelligence in the modern era began
with Francis Galton (1822–1911) (who is often given the appellation “Sir”
because he was knighted in 1909). Galton believed that because people

learn about the world through their senses, those with superior sensory
abilities would be able to learn more about it. Thus, he argued, sensory
abilities should be an indicator of a person’s intelligence. In 1884, Galton
created a set of 17 sensory tests, such as the highest and lowest sounds
people could hear or their ability to tell the difference between objects of
slightly different weights, and began testing people’s abilities in his
anthropometric laboratory. Anthropometrics  (literally, “the
measurement of people”) referred to methods of measuring physical and
mental variation in humans. Galton’s lab attracted many visitors, allowing
him to measure the sensory abilities of thousands of people in England

(Gillham, 2001).
One of Galton’s colleagues, James McKeen Cattell, took his tests to the
United States and began measuring the abilities of university students.
This research revealed, however, that people’s abilities on different
sensory tests were not correlated with each other, or only very weakly.
For example, having exceptional eyesight seemed to signify little about
whether one would have exceptional hearing. Clearly, this was a
problem, because if two measures don’t correlate well with each other,
then they can’t both be indicators of the same thing, in this case,
intelligence. Cattell also found that students’ scores on the sensory tests
did not predict their grades, which one would expect would also be an
indicator of intelligence. As a result, Galton’s approach to measuring
intelligence was generally abandoned.

Intelligence and Thinking: The Stanford–
Binet Test
In contrast to Galton, a prominent French psychologist, Alfred Binet,
argued that intelligence should be indicated by more complex thinking
processes, such as memory, attention, and comprehension. This view has

influenced most intelligence researchers up to the present day. They
define intelligence  as the ability to think, understand, reason, and adapt to
or overcome obstacles (Neisser et al., 1996). From this perspective,
intelligence reflects how well people are able to reason and solve
problems, plus their accumulated knowledge.
In 1904, Binet and his colleague, Theodore Simon, were hired by the
French government to develop a test to measure intelligence. At the end
of the 19th century, institutional reforms in France had made primary
school education available to all children. As a result, French educators

struggled to deliver a curriculum to students ranging from the very bright
to those who found school exceptionally challenging. To respond to this
problem, the French government wanted an objective way of identifying
“retarded” children who would benefit from specialized education
(Siegler, 1992).
Binet and Simon experimented with a wide variety of tasks, trying to
capture the complex thinking processes that presumably comprised
intelligence. They settled on 30 tasks, arranged in order of increasing

difficulty. For example, simple tasks included repeating sentences and
defining common words like house. More difficult tasks included
constructing sentences using combinations of certain words (e.g., Paris,
river, fortune), reproducing drawings from memory, and being able to
explain how two things differed from each other. Very difficult tasks
included being able to define abstract concepts and to logically reason
through a problem (Fancher, 1985).
Binet and Simon gave their test to samples of children from different age
groups to establish the average test score for each age. Binet argued that a
child’s test score measured their mental age , the average intellectual
ability score for children of a specific age. For example, if a seven-year-old’s
score was the same as the average score for seven-year-olds, they would
have a mental age of seven, whereas if it was the same as the average
score for 10-year-olds, they would have a mental age of 10, even though
their chronological age would be seven in both cases. A child with a
mental age lower than their chronological age would be expected to
struggle in school and to require remedial education.
The practicality of Binet and Simon’s test was apparent to others, and
soon researchers in the United States began to adapt it for their own use.
Lewis Terman at Stanford University adapted the test for American

children and established average scores for each age level by
administering the test to thousands of children. In 1916, he published the

first version of his adapted test, and named it the Stanford-Binet
Intelligence Scale (Siegler, 1992).
Terman and others almost immediately began describing the Stanford-

Binet test  as a test intended to measure innate levels of intelligence. This
differed substantially from Binet, who had viewed his test as a measure of
a child’s current abilities, not as a measure of an innate capacity. There is

a crucial difference between believing that test scores reflect a changeable
ability or believing they reflect an innate capacity that is presumably

fixed. The interpretation of intelligence as an innate ability set the stage
for the incredibly misguided use of intelligence tests in the decades that
followed, as we discuss later in this module.
To better reflect people’s presumably innate levels of intelligence, Terman

adopted William Stern’s concept of the intelligence quotient or IQ , a
label that has stuck to the present day. IQ is calculated by taking a person’s
mental age, dividing it by their chronological age, and then multiplying by 100.
For example, a 10-year-old child with a mental age of seven would have
an IQ of 7/10 × 100 = 70. On the other hand, if a child’s mental and

chronological ages were the same, the IQ score would always be 100,
regardless of the age of the child. Thus, 100 became the standard IQ for
the “average child.”
To see the conceptual difference implied by these two ways of reporting
intelligence, consider the following two statements. Does one sound

more optimistic than the other?
He has a mental age of seven, so he is three years behind.

He has an IQ of 70, so he is 30 points below average.
To many people, being three years behind in mental age seems
changeable. With sufficient work and assistance, it feels like such a child
should be able to catch up to his peers. On the other hand, having an IQ
that’s 30 points below average sounds like the diagnosis of a permanent

condition. Such a person seems doomed to be “unintelligent” forever.
One other odd feature of both Binet’s mental age concept and Stern’s IQ
was that they didn’t generalize very well to adult populations. For
example, are 80-year-old twice as intelligent as 40-year-olds? After all, an
80-year-old who was as intelligent as an average 40-year-old would have
an IQ of 50 (40/80 × 100 = 50); clearly, this doesn’t make sense. Similarly,

imagine a 30-year-old with a mental age of 30; her IQ would be 100. But
in 10 years, when she was 40, if her mental age stayed at 30, she would
have an IQ of only 75 (30/40 × 100 = 75). Given that IQ scores remain

constant after about age 16 (Eysenck, 1994), this would mean that adults
get progressively less smart with every year that they age. Although
children may sometimes think exactly this about their parents, their
parents would clearly have a different opinion.
To adjust for this problem, psychologists began to use a different
measure, deviation IQ, for calculating the IQ of adults (Wechsler, 1939).

The deviation IQ  is calculated by comparing the person’s test score with the
average score for people of the same age. In order to calculate deviation IQs,
one must first establish the norm, or average, for a population. To do so,
psychologists administer tests to huge numbers of people and use these
scores to estimate the average for people of different ages. These averages
are then used as baselines against which to compare a person. Because
“average” is defined to be 100, a deviation IQ of 100 means that the
person is average, whereas an IQ of 115 would mean that the person’s IQ
is above average (see Figure 9.1 ). One advantage of using deviation IQ
scores is that it avoids the problem of IQ scores that consistently decline
with age because scores are calculated relative to others of the same age.
Figure 9.1 The Normal Distribution of Scores for a Standardized Intelligence Test
The Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale
In an ironic twist, the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale (WAIS) , the
most common intelligence test in use today for adolescents and adults, was
developed by a man who himself had been labelled as “feeble minded” by
intelligence tests after immigrating to the United States from Romania at
the age of nine. David Wechsler originally developed the scale in 1955
and it is now in its fourth edition.
The WAIS provides a single IQ score for each test taker—the Full Scale IQ
—but also breaks intelligence into a General Ability Index (GAI) and a
Cognitive Proficiency Index (CPI), as shown in Figure 9.2 . The GAI is

computed from scores on the Verbal Comprehension and Perceptual
Reasoning indices. These measures tap into an individual’s intellectual
abilities, but without placing much emphasis on how fast they can solve
problems and make decisions. The CPI, in contrast, is based on the
Working Memory and Processing Speed indices. It is included in the Full

Scale IQ category because greater working memory capacity and
processing speed allow more cognitive resources to be devoted to
reasoning and solving problems. Figure 9.3  shows some sample test
items from the WAIS.
Figure 9.2 Subscales of the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale

Figure 9.3 Types of Problems Used to Measure Intelligence
Raven’s Progressive Matrices
Although the Stanford-Binet test and the WAIS have been widely used
across North America, they have also been criticized by a number of
researchers. One of the key problems with many intelligence tests, such
as these, is that questions often are biased to favour people from the test
developer’s culture or who primarily speak the test developer’s language.

This cultural bias puts people from different cultures, social classes,
educational levels, and primary languages at an immediate disadvantage.
Clearly, this is a problem, because a person’s “intelligence” should not be
affected by whether they are fluent in English or familiar with Western
culture. In response to this problem, psychologists have tried to develop

“culture-free” tests.
In the 1930s, John Raven developed Raven’s Progressive Matrices , an
intelligence test that is based on pictures, not words, thus making it relatively
unaffected by language or cultural background. The main set of tasks found

in Raven’s Progressive Matrices measure the extent to which test takers
can see patterns in the shapes and colours within a matrix and then
determine which shape or colour would complete the pattern (see Figure
9.4 ).
Figure 9.4 Sample Problem from Raven's Progressive Matrices

Source: "Sample Problem from Raven's Progressive Matrices," NCS Pearson, 1998.
The Checkered Past of Intelligence
Testing
IQ testing in North America got a significant boost during World War I.
Lewis Terman, developer of the Stanford-Binet test, worked with the
United States military to develop a set of intelligence tests that could be
used to identify which military recruits had the potential to become
officers and which should be streamed into non-officer roles. The

intention was to make the officer selection process more objective,
thereby increasing the efficiency and effectiveness of officer training
programs. Following World War I, Terman argued for the use of
intelligence tests in schools for similar purposes—identifying students
who should be channelled into more advanced academic subjects that

would prepare them for higher education, and others who should be
channelled into more skill-based subjects that would prepare them for
direct entry into the skilled trades and the general workforce. Armed with
his purportedly objective IQ tests, he was a man on a mission to improve
society. However, the way he went about doing so was rife with
problems.
IQ Testing and the Eugenics Movement
In order to understand the logic of Terman and his followers, it is
important to examine the larger societal context in which his theories
were developed. The end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries
was a remarkable time in human history. A few centuries of European
colonialism had spread Western influence through much of the world.

The Industrial Revolution, which was concentrated in the West,
compounded this, making Western nations more powerful militarily,
technologically, and economically. And in the sciences, Darwin’s
paradigm-shattering work on the origin of species firmly established the
idea of evolution by natural selection (see Module 3.1 ), permanently

transforming our scientific understanding of the living world.
Although an exciting time for the advancement of human knowledge, this
confluence of events also had some very negative consequences,
especially in terms of how colonialism affected non-Western cultures and

people of non-white ethnicities. However, the stage was set for social
“visionaries” to apply Darwin’s ideas to human culture, and to explain the
military–economic–technological dominance of Western cultures by
assuming that Westerners (and especially white people) were genetically
superior. This explanation served as a handy justification for the colonial
powers’ imposition of Western European values on other cultures. In fact,
it was often viewed that the colonizers were actually doing other cultures
a favour, helping to “civilize” them by assimilating them into a “superior”
cultural system.
The social Darwinism that emerged gave rise to one of the uglier social
movements of recent times—eugenics, which means “good genes”
(Gillham, 2001). The history of eugenics is intimately intertwined with
the history of intelligence testing. In fact, Francis Galton himself, a cousin
of Charles Darwin, coined the term eugenics, gaining credibility for his
ideas after making an extensive study of the heritability of intelligence.
Many people viewed eugenics as a way to improve the human gene pool.
Their definition of “improve” is certainly up for debate.
American Philosophical Society
Galton noticed that many members of his own family were successful
businessmen and some, like Charles Darwin, eminent scientists. He
studied other families and concluded that eminence ran in families, which
he believed was due to “good breeding.” Although families share more
than genes, such as wealth, privilege, and social status, Galton believed
that genes were the basis of the family patterns he observed (Fancher,
2009).
Galton’s views influenced Lewis Terman, who promoted an explicitly
eugenic philosophy. He argued for the superiority of his own “race” and,
in the interest of “improving” society, believed that his IQ tests provided a

strong empirical justification for eugenic practices. One such practice was
the forced sterilization of people like Leilani Muir, whom we discussed at

the beginning of this module.
Supporters of eugenics often noted that its logic was based on research
and philosophy from many different fields. Doing so put the focus on the
abstract intellectual characteristics of eugenics rather than on some of its
disturbing, real-world implications.
American Philosophical Society
As Terman administered his tests to more people, it appeared that his

race-based beliefs were verified by his data. Simply put, people from
other cultures and other apparent ethnic backgrounds didn’t score as

highly on his tests as did white people from the West (i.e., the United
States, Canada, and Western Europe, for the most part). For example,
40% of new immigrants to Canada and the United States scored so low
they were classified as “feebleminded” (Kevles, 1985). As a result, Terman
concluded that people from non-Western cultures and non-white

ethnicities generally had lower IQs, and he therefore argued that it was
appropriate (even desirable) to stream them into less challenging
academic pursuits and jobs of lower status. For example, he wrote,
High-grade or border-line deficiency . . . is very, very common among Spanish-Indian and
Mexican families of the Southwest and also among negroes. Their dullness seems to be racial,
or at least inherent in the family stocks from which they come. . . . Children of this group
should be segregated into separate classes. . . . They cannot master abstractions but they can
often be made into efficient workers . . . from a eugenic point of view they constitute a grave
problem because of their unusually prolific breeding. (Terman, 1916, pp. 91–92)
Such ideas gained enough popularity that forced sterilization was carried
out in at least 30 of the United States and two Canadian provinces, lasting
for almost half a century. In Alberta, the Sexual Sterilization Act remained
in force until 1972, by which time more than 2800 people had undergone
sterilization procedures in that province alone. And as you might have
guessed, new immigrants, the poor, Indigenous people, and Black people
were sterilized far more often than middle and upper-class White people.
The Race and IQ Controversy
One of the reasons intelligence tests played so well into the agendas of
eugenicists is that, from Terman onwards, researchers over the past
century have consistently found differences in the IQ scores of people
from different ethnic groups. Before we go any further, we want to
acknowledge that this is a difficult, and potentially upsetting, set of

research findings. However, it’s important to take a close look at this
research, and to understand the controversy that surrounds it, because
these findings are well known in the world of intelligence testing and
could be easily misused by those who are motivated by prejudiced views.
As you will see, when you take a close look at the science, the story is not
nearly as clear as it may appear at first glance.
The root of this issue about “race and IQ” is that there is a clear and
reliable hierarchy of IQ scores across different ethnic groups. This was
first discovered in the early 1900s, and by the 1920s, the United States
passed legislation making it standard to administer intelligence tests to
new immigrants arriving at Ellis Island for entry into the country. The
result was that overwhelming numbers of immigrants were officially
classified as feebleminded or as “morons,” a normal, scientific term at that
time. Although many, like Terman, automatically found genes to be the
natural explanation, others kept a more open mind. Some psychologists
suspected that these tests were unfair, and that the low scores of these
minority groups might be due to language barriers and a lack of
knowledge of American culture. Nevertheless, as intelligence tests were

developed that were increasingly culturally sensitive—such as Raven’s
Progressive Matrices—these differences persisted. Specifically, Asian
people tended to score the highest, followed by whites, followed by
Latinos and Blacks. This trend has been found in samples in several parts
of the world, including Canada (Rushton & Jensen, 2005). Other
researchers have found that Indigenous people in Canada score lower as
a group than Canadians with European ancestry (e.g., Beiser & Gotowiec,
2000).
The race–IQ research hit the general public in 1994 with the publication
of The Bell Curve (Herrnstein & Murray, 1994), which became a bestseller.
This book focused on over two decades of research that replicated the
race differences in IQ that we mentioned earlier. Herrnstein and Murray
also argued that human intelligence is a strong predictor of many
personal and social outcomes, such as workplace performance, income,
and the likelihood of being involved in criminal activities. Additionally,
The Bell Curve argued that those of high intelligence were reproducing less
than those of low intelligence, leading to a dangerous population trend in
the United States. They believed that America was becoming an

increasingly divided society, populated by a small class of “cognitive
elite,” and a large underclass with lower intelligence. They argued that a
healthy society would be a meritocracy, in which people who had the
most ability and worked the hardest would receive the most wealth,
power, and status. Those who didn’t have what it took to rise to the top,
such as those with low IQs, should be allowed to live out their fates, and
should not therefore be helped by programs such as Head Start,
affirmative action programs, or scholarships for members of visible

minorities. Instead, the system should simply allow people with the most
demonstrable merit to rise to the top, regardless of their cultural or ethnic
backgrounds. Although many people agree with the idea of a meritocracy

in principle, a huge problem arises in implementing a meritocracy when
the system is set up to systematically give certain groups advantages over

other groups. In this situation, assessing true “merit” is far from
straightforward.
As you can imagine, research on the race–IQ gap sparked bitter
controversy. Within the academic world, some researchers have claimed

that these findings are valid (e.g., Gottfredson, 2005), whereas others
have argued that these results are based on flawed methodologies and
poor measurements (e.g., Lieberman, 2001; Nisbett, 2005). Others have
sought to discredit Herrnstein and Murray’s conclusions, in particular
their argument that the differences in IQ scores between ethnic groups

means that there are inherent, genetic differences in intelligence between
the groups. Within the general public, reaction was similarly mixed;
however, this research does get used by some people to justify policies
such as limiting immigration, discontinuing affirmative action programs,

and otherwise working to overturn decades of progress made in the fight
for civil rights and equality.

Problems with the Racial Superiority
Interpretation
In many ways, the simplest critique of the racial superiority interpretation
of these test score differences is that the tests themselves are culturally
biased. This critique was lodged against intelligence tests from the time of
Terman and, as we discussed earlier, a considerable amount of research
focused on creating tests that were not biased due to language and
culture. But in spite of all this work, the test score differences between
ethnic groups remained.
A more subtle critique was that it wasn’t necessarily the tests that were
biased, but the very process of testing itself. If people in minority groups
are less familiar with standardized tests, if they are less motivated to do
well on the tests, or if they are less able to focus on performing well
during the testing sessions, they will be more likely to produce lower test
scores. This indeed seems to be the case. Researchers have found that
cultural background affects many aspects of the testing process, including
how comfortable people are in a formal testing environment, how
motivated they are to perform well on such tests, and their ability to
establish rapport with the test administrators (Anastasi & Urbina, 1996).
Some research has also indicated that the IQ differences may be due to a
process known as stereotype threat , which occurs when negative
stereotypes about a group cause group members to underperform on ability tests

(Steele, 1997). In other words, if a Black person is reminded of the
stereotype that Black people perform more poorly than white people on
intelligence tests, they may end up scoring lower on that test as a result.
Researchers have identified at least two reasons stereotype threat may
lower scores:
It increases physiological arousal—the kind of anxiety response that
makes your palms sweaty and muscles tense.
It causes people to pay much more attention to their own
performance, which leaves less attention and memory available to
focus on the test itself (Schmader et al., 2008).
There have now been more than 200 studies on stereotype threat (Nisbett
et al., 2012). Critics of this concept say that many of the studies on
stereotype threat have very small effects, and that the early studies are
very difficult to replicate (Whaley, 2018).
These concerns cast doubt on the validity of IQ scores for members of
non-white ethnic and cultural groups, suggesting that differences in test
scores do not necessarily reflect differences in the underlying ability being

tested (i.e., intelligence), but instead may reflect other factors, such as
linguistic or cultural bias in the testing situation.
Another important critique has been lodged against the race–IQ research,
arguing that even if one believes that the tests are valid and that there are
intelligence differences between groups in society, these may not be the

result of innate, genetic differences between the groups. For example,
consider the circumstances that poor people and ethnic minorities face in
countries like Canada or the United States. People from such groups tend
to experience a host of factors that contribute to poorer cognitive and
neurological development, such as poorer nutrition, greater stress, lower-

quality schools, higher rates of illness (Acevedo-Garcia et al., 2008) with
reduced access to medical treatment, and greater exposure to toxins such
as lead (Dilworth-Bart & Moore, 2006).
One additional, subtle factor that may interfere with the test
performances of people from disadvantaged groups is that the life

experiences of people in those groups may encourage them to adopt
certain beliefs about themselves, which then interfere with their

motivations to perform their best. For example, if early experiences in
educational settings lead people to believe that they are not intelligent,
and that this is a fixed quality, they will tend to believe that there is little
they can do to change their own intelligence, and as a result, they won’t
try very hard to do so. However, recent research suggests that it is

possible to improve one’s intelligence—but one has to believe this in
order to take the necessary steps to make it happen.

Beliefs about Intelligence
Think of something you’re not very good at (or maybe have never
even tried), like juggling knives, solving Sudoku puzzles, or

speaking Gaelic. Most likely, you would expect that even if your
initial attempts didn’t go well, with practice you could get better.
Now think about how smart you are. Do you think you could
make yourself smarter? Do you ever say things like “I’m no good
at math” or “I just can’t do multiple choice tests?” Do you think
about these abilities the same way that you think about knife-
juggling?
Many people hold implicit beliefs that their intelligence level is

relatively fixed and find it surprising that intelligence is, in fact,
highly changeable. Ironically, this mistaken belief itself will tend
to limit people’s potential to change their own intelligence. This
is an especially important issue for students, as children’s self-
perceptions of their mental abilities have a very strong influence
on their academic performance (Greven et al., 2009).
What do we know about the kinds of beliefs

that may affect test scores?
Research into this phenomenon has helped to shed light on the
frustrating mystery of why some people seem to consistently fall
short of reaching their potential. Carol Dweck (2002) has found

that people seem to hold one of two theories about the nature of
intelligence. They may hold an entity theory : the belief that
intelligence is a fixed characteristic and relatively difficult (or
impossible) to change; or they may hold an incremental theory :
the belief that intelligence can be shaped by experiences, practice, and
effort. Whether a person holds to an entity theory or incremental
theory has powerful effects on their academic performance.
How can science test whether beliefs affect

performance?
In experiments by Dweck and her colleagues, students were
identified as holding either entity theory or incremental theory
beliefs. The students had the chance to answer 476 general
knowledge questions dealing with topics such as history,
literature, math, and geography. They received immediate
feedback on whether their answers were correct or incorrect.

Those who held entity beliefs were more likely to give up in the
face of highly challenging problems, and they were likely to
withdraw from situations that resulted in failure. These
individuals seemed to believe that intelligence was something
you either had or you didn’t. Thus, when encountering difficult

problems or feelings of failure, they seemed to conclude, “Well, I
guess I don’t have it” and as a result gave up trying (Mangels et
al., 2006).
In comparison, people with incremental views of intelligence

were more resilient (Mangels et al., 2006), continuing to work
hard even when faced with challenges and failures. After all, if
intelligence and ability can change, then rather than getting
discouraged by difficulties, one should keep working hard,
improving one’s abilities.

Because resilience is such a desirable trait, Dweck and her
colleagues tested a group of junior high students to see whether
incremental views could be taught (Blackwell et al., 2007). In a

randomized, controlled experiment, they taught one group of
grade 7 students incremental theory—that they could control and

change their abilities. This group’s grades increased over the
school year, whereas the control group’s grades actually declined

(Figure 9.5 ).
Figure 9.5 Personal Beliefs Influence Grades
Students who held incremental views of intelligence (i.e., the

belief that intelligence can change with effort) show improved
grades in math compared to students who believed that
intelligence was an unchanging entity (Blackwell et al., 2007).
Source: Blackwell, L. S., Trzesniewski, K. H., & Dweck, C. S. (2007). Implicit theories
of intelligence predict achievement across an adult transition: A longitudinal study and
an intervention. Child Development, 78(1), Pg. 246–263. Copyright © 2007 by John
Wiley & Sons, Inc. Reproduced by permission of John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
The moral of the story? If you think you can, you might; but if
you think you can’t, you won’t.

These findings suggest that it is desirable to help people adopt
incremental beliefs about their abilities. However, is this always

for the best? What if, in some situations, it is true that no matter
how hard a person tries, they are unlikely to succeed, and
continuing to try at all costs may be detrimental to the person’s

well-being, or may close the door on other opportunities that
may have turned out better? At what point do we encourage
people to be more “realistic” and to accept their limitations? So
far, these remain unanswered questions in this literature.
An additional difficulty surrounding these studies is that it is not

fully clear what mechanisms might be causing the improvements.
Does the incremental view of intelligence lead to increased

attention, effort, and time invested in studying? Does it lead to
less-critical self-judgments following failure experiences? Or does
it have a positive effect on mood, which has been shown to
improve performance on tests of perception and creativity (Isen

et al., 1987)? In order to better understand why these mindsets
work the way they do and, perhaps, how to apply them more
effectively, a great deal of research is needed to determine which
mechanisms are operating in which circumstances. However,

regardless of the mechanism(s) involved, the fact that it is
possible to help students by changing their view of intelligence
could be a powerful force for educational change in the future.

This research has huge potential to be applied in schools and to
become a part of standard parenting practice. Teaching people to
adopt the view that intelligence and other abilities are trainable
skills should give them a greater feeling of control over their
lives, strengthen their motivations, enhance their resilience to
difficulty, and improve their goal-striving success. Carol Dweck

and Lisa Sorich Blackwell have designed a program called
Brainology to teach students from elementary through high
school that the brain can be trained and strengthened through
practice. They hope that programs such as this can counteract the
disempowering effects of stereotypes by helping members of

stereotyped groups to have greater resilience and to avoid
succumbing to negative beliefs about themselves. Not only is
intelligence changeable, as this research shows, but perhaps
society itself can be changed through the widespread application

of this research.
Module 9.1 Summary
9.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with intelligence

and intelligence testing.
Review Module 9.1
9.1b Understand . . . the reasoning behind the eugenics

movements and its use of intelligence tests.
The eugenicists believed that abilities like intelligence were inborn, and
thus, by encouraging reproduction between people with higher IQs, and
reducing the birthrate of people with lower IQs, the gene pool of
humankind could be improved.
9.1c Apply . . . the concepts of entity theory and incremental

theory to help kids succeed in school.
One of the key reasons that people stop trying to succeed in school, and
then eventually drop out, is that they hold a belief that their basic
abilities, such as their intelligence, are fixed. Not trying then guarantees
that they perform poorly, which reinforces their tendency to not try.
However, this downward spiral can be stopped by training young people
to think of themselves as changeable. Specifically, learning to think that
the brain is like a muscle that can be strengthened through exercise leads
people to improve their scores on intelligence tests, helps them become
more resilient to negative circumstances, and enables them to respond to
life’s challenges more effectively.
Review A Memory Task for Measuring Intelligence

9.1d Analyze . . . why it is difficult to remove all cultural bias
from intelligence testing.
There are many reasons why the process of intelligence testing may be
systematically biased, resulting in inaccuracies when testing people from
certain cultural groups: Tests may contain content that is more relevant or
familiar to some cultures; the method of testing (e.g., paper-and-pencil
multiple-choice questions) may be more familiar to people from some

cultures; the environment of testing may make people from some cultures
less comfortable; the presence of negative stereotypes about one’s group

may interfere with test-taking abilities; and the internalization of self-
defeating beliefs may affect performance.

Module 9.2 Understanding
Intelligence
Lane V. Erickson/Shutterstock
9.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to understanding
intelligence.
9.2b Understand . . . why intelligence is described as a hierarchy.
9.2c Understand . . . intelligence differences between males and
females.
9.2d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify examples that reflect fluid
vs. crystallized intelligence.
9.2e Analyze . . . whether teachers should spend time tailoring

lessons to each individual student’s learning style.
In 1849, Blind Tom was born into a slave family in the southern United
States. When his mother was bought in a slave auction by General
James Bethune, Tom was included in the sale for nothing because he
was blind and believed to be useless. Indeed, Tom was not “smart” in
the normal sense of the term. Even as an adult he could speak fewer
than 100 words and would never be able to go to school. But he could
play more than 7000 pieces on the piano, including a huge classical
music repertoire and many of his own compositions. Tom could play,
flawlessly, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Bach, Chopin, Verdi, Rossini, and
many others, even after hearing a piece only a single time. As an 11-
year-old, he played at the White House, and by 16 went on a world
tour. A panel of expert musicians performed a series of musical

experiments on him, and universally agreed he was “among the most
wonderful phenomena in musical history.” Despite his dramatic

linguistic limitations, he could reproduce, perfectly, up to a 15-minute
conversation without losing a single syllable, and could do so in

English, French, or German, without understanding any part of what
he was saying. In the mid-1800s, he was considered to be the “eighth
wonder of the world.”
Today, Tom would be considered a savant , an individual with low

mental capacity in most domains but extraordinary abilities in other
specific areas such as music, mathematics, or art. The existence of

savants complicates our discussion of intelligence considerably.
Usually, the label “intelligent” or “unintelligent” is taken to indicate

some sort of overall ability, the amount of raw brainpower available to
the person, akin to an engine’s horsepower. But this doesn’t map onto
savants at all—they have seemingly unlimited “horsepower” for certain
skills and virtually none for many others. The existence of savants, and
the more general phenomenon of people being good at some things (e.g.,
math, science) but not others (e.g., languages, art) challenges our
understanding of intelligence and makes us ask more deeply, what is
intelligence? Is it one ability? Or is it many?
When we draw conclusions about someone’s intelligence (e.g., Sally is
really smart!), we intuitively know what we mean. Right? Being intelligent

has to do with a person’s abilities to think, understand, reason, learn, and
find solutions to problems. But this intuitive understanding unravels
quickly when you start considering the questions it raises. Are these
abilities related to each other? Does the content of a person’s intelligence
matter? That is, does it mean the same thing if a person is very good at
different things, like math, music, history, poetry, and childrearing? Or
should intelligence be thought of more as a person’s abilities on these

specific types of tasks? Perhaps that would mean that there isn’t any such
thing as “intelligence” per se, but rather a whole host of narrower

“intelligences.” As you will learn in this module, a full picture of
intelligence involves considering a variety of different perspectives.

Intelligence as a Single, General Ability
When we say someone is intelligent, we usually are implying they have a

high level of generalized cognitive ability. We expect intelligent people to
be intelligent in many different ways, about many different topics. We
wouldn’t normally call someone intelligent if they were good at, say,
making up limericks, but nothing else. Intelligence should manifest itself

in many domains.
Scientific evidence for intelligence as a general ability dates back to early
20th-century work by Charles Spearman, who began by developing
techniques to calculate correlations among multiple measures of mental
abilities (Spearman, 1923). For example, imagine that scores on tests of

vocabulary, reading comprehension, and verbal reasoning correlate
highly together; these would form a factor we might refer to as verbal
intelligence. Similarly, imagine that scores on algebra, geometry, and
calculus questions correlate highly together; these would form a factor we
might call numerical intelligence. However, if the language variables
don’t correlate very well with the math variables, then you have some
confidence that these are separate factors. In this case, it would imply that
there are at least two types of independent abilities: math and language
abilities. For there to be an overarching general ability called intelligence,
one would expect that tests of different types of abilities would all
correlate with each other, forming only one factor.

Spearman’s General Intelligence
Spearman found that schoolchildren’s grades in different school subjects
were positively correlated, even though the content of the different topics
(e.g., math vs. history) was very different. This led Spearman to
hypothesize the existence of a general intelligence factor  (abbreviated
as “g”). Spearman believed that g represented a person’s “mental energy,”

reflecting his belief that some people’s brains are simply more “powerful” than
others (Sternberg, 2003). This has greatly influenced psychologists up to
the present day, cementing within the field the notion that intelligence is a
basic cognitive trait comprising the ability to learn, reason, and solve
problems, regardless of their nature. Common intelligence tests in use

today calculate g as an “overall” measure of intelligence (Johnson et al.,
2008).
But is g real? Does it predict anything meaningful? In fact, g does predict
many important phenomena. For example, g correlates quite highly with

high school and university grades (Neisser et al., 1996), how many years
a person will stay in school, and how much they will earn afterward (Ceci
& Williams, 1997).
General intelligence scores also predict many seemingly unrelated
phenomena, such as how long people are likely to live (Gottfredson &
Deary, 2004), how quickly they can make snap judgments on perceptual
discrimination tasks (i.e., laboratory tasks that test how quickly people
form perceptions; Deary & Stough, 1996), and how well people can exert
self-control (Shamosh et al., 2008). Some other examples of g’s influences
are depicted in Figure 9.6 .
Figure 9.6 General Intelligence Is Related to Many Different Life Outcomes
General intelligence (g) predicts not just intellectual ability, but also
psychological well-being, income, and successful long-term relationships.
Source: Based on "General Intelligence is related to Various Outcomes" Adapted from Herrnstein,
R., & Murray, C. (1994). The bell curve: Intelligence and class structure in American Life. New York:
Free Press; Gottsfredson, L. (1997). Why g matters: Complexity of everyday life. Intelligence, 24,
79-132.
In the workplace, intelligence test scores not only predict who gets hired,
but also how well people perform at a wide variety of jobs. In fact, the
correlation is so strong that after almost a century of research, general
mental ability has emerged as one of the best overall predictors of

performance at work and in post-graduate education (Kuncel & Hezlett,
2010; Van Iddekenge et al., 2018). Overall intelligence is a far better
predictor than the applicant’s level of education (correlation = .10) or how

well the applicant does in the job interview itself (correlation = .14). It is
amazing to think that in order to make a good hiring decision, a manager

would be better off using a single number given by an IQ test than
actually sitting down and interviewing applicants face to face!
The usefulness of g is also shown by modern neuroscience research
findings that overall intelligence predicts how well our brains work. For
example, Tony Vernon at Western University and his colleagues have
found that general intelligence test scores predict how efficiently we

conduct impulses along nerve fibres and across synapses (Johnson et al.,
2005; Reed et al., 2004). This efficiency of nerve conduction allows for
more efficient information processing overall. As a result, when working
on a task, the brains of highly intelligent people don’t have to work as

hard as those of less intelligent people. High IQ brains show less overall
brain activation than others for the same task (Grabner et al., 2003; Haier
et al., 1992).
Thus, overall intelligence, as indicated by g, is related to many real-world

phenomena, from how well we do at work to how well our brains
function.
Does g Tell Us the Whole Story?
Clearly, g reflects a real statistical phenomenon: people who do well on
one type of test tend to have good performance on many other tests.
Although tests are abstract, they also tend to correlate with real-world
factors like job performance. However, not everyone is convinced that the
measures used really tell us anything more than some people tend to be
able to solve problems better than others (Richardson & Norgate, 2015).
Moreover, we have to remember that correlation does not equal
causation. It is possible that the correlations between g and job
performance are due to a third variable (perhaps motivation, self-
confidence, or other variables) that lead people to do good work, whether

it is on the job or when given a test. In fact, some research in the
workplace has found that motivation is every bit as important as g (Van
Iddekenge et al., 2018).
Finally, measures of g do not tell us much about how intelligence works,

only whether people tend to do well on various types of tasks. As an
analogy, consider ways of measuring the performance of an automobile.
Some cars would get high marks for accelerating quickly, making sharp
turns, and being able to zigzag without skidding. The fact that all of these
performance indicators are correlated is not surprising—they are defining
features of a sports car. However, the correlations tell us nothing about
the feats of engineering and manufacturing that allow these
characteristics to exist in the first place. Similarly, g only tells us that

certain types of performance tend to correlate, but those measures don’t
say why.
So what can g explain about a person’s intelligence? How could a single
number possibly capture the kinds of genius exhibited by savants like
Blind Tom, who are exceptionally talented in some domains but severely
impaired in others? It is easy to find other examples in your own
experience. Surely, you have known people who were very talented in art
or music but terrible in math or science? Or perhaps you have known an
incredibly smart person who was socially awkward, or a charismatic and

charming person whom you’d never want as your chemistry partner?
There may be many ways of being intelligent, and reducing such diversity
to a single number seems to overlook the different types of intelligence
that people have.

Intelligence as Multiple, Specific
Abilities
Spearman himself believed that g didn’t fully capture intelligence because
his own analyses showed that although different items on an intelligence
test were correlated with each other, their correlations were never 1.0,
and usually far less than that. Thus, g cannot be the whole story; there
must, at the very least, be other factors that account for the variability in
how well people respond to different questions.
One possible explanation is that in addition to a generalized intelligence,
people also possess a number of specific skills. Individual differences on
these skills may explain some of the variability on intelligence tests that is
not accounted for by g. In a flurry of creativity, Spearman chose the
inspired name “s” to represent this specific-level, skill-based intelligence.
His two-factor theory of intelligence was therefore comprised of g and s,
where g represents a person’s general, overarching intelligence and s
represents a person’s skill or ability level for a given task.
Nobody has seriously questioned the s part of Spearman’s theory.
Obviously, each task in life, from opening a coconut to solving calculus
problems, requires abilities that are specific to the task. However, the
concept of g has come under heavy fire throughout the intervening
decades, leading to several theories of multiple intelligences.

The first influential theory of multiple intelligences was created by Louis
Thurstone, who examined scores of general intelligence tests using factor
analysis, and found seven clusters of what he termed primary mental
abilities. Thurstone’s seven factors were word fluency (the person’s ability
to produce language fluently), verbal comprehension, numeric abilities,
spatial visualization, memory, perceptual speed, and reasoning
(Thurstone, 1938). He argued that there was no meaningful g, but that
intelligence needed to be understood at the level of these primary mental
abilities that functioned independently of each other. However, Spearman
(1939) fired back, arguing that Thurstone’s seven primary mental abilities
were in fact correlated with each other, suggesting that there was after all
an overarching general intelligence.
A highly technical and statistical debate raged for several more decades
between proponents of g and proponents of multiple intelligences, until it
was eventually decided that both of them were right.

The Hierarchical Model of Intelligence
The controversy was largely settled by the widespread adoption of
hierarchical models that describe how some types of intelligence are
“nested” within others in a similar manner to how, for example, a person
is nested within her community, which may be nested within a city. The
general hierarchical model describes how our lowest-level abilities (those

relevant to a particular task, like Spearman’s s) are nested within a middle
level that roughly corresponds to Thurstone’s primary mental abilities
(although not necessarily the specific ones that Thurstone hypothesized),
and these are nested within a general intelligence (Spearman’s g;
Gustaffson, 1988). By the mid-1990s, analyses of prior research on

intelligence concluded that almost all intelligence studies were best
explained by a three-level hierarchy (Carroll, 1993).
What this means is that we have an overarching general intelligence,
which is made up of a small number of sub-abilities, each of which is

made up of a large number of specific abilities that apply to individual
tasks. However, even this didn’t completely settle the debate about what
intelligence really is, because it left open a great deal of room for different
theories of the best way to describe the middle-level factors. And as you
will see in the next section, even the debate about g has been updated in
recent years.
Testing for Fluid and Crystallized Intelligence
The concept of g implies that performance on all aspects of an
intelligence test is influenced by this central ability. But careful

analyses of many data sets, and recent neurobiological evidence,
have shown that there may be two types of g that have come to
be called fluid intelligence (Gf) and crystallized intelligence (Gc).
What do we know about fluid and crystallized

intelligence?
The distinction between fluid and crystallized intelligence is
basically the difference between “figuring things out” and
“knowing what to do from past experience.” Fluid intelligence
(Gf)  is a type of intelligence used in learning new information and

solving new problems not based on knowledge the person already
possesses. Tests of Gf involve problems such as pattern
recognition and solving geometric puzzles, neither of which is
heavily dependent on past experience. For example, Raven’s

Progressive Matrices, in which a person is asked to complete a
series of geometric patterns of increasing complexity (see Module
9.1 ), is the most widely used measure of Gf. In contrast,
crystallized intelligence (Gc)  is a type of intelligence that draws
upon past learning and experience. Tests of Gc, such as tests of
vocabulary and general knowledge, depend heavily on

individuals’ prior knowledge to come up with the correct answers
(Figure 9.7 ; Cattell, 1971).
Figure 9.7 Fluid and Crystallized Intelligence
Fluid intelligence is dynamic and changing, and may eventually

become crystallized into a more permanent form.
AVAVA/Shutterstock
Gf and Gc are thought to be largely separate from each other,
with two important exceptions. One is that having greater fluid

intelligence means that the person is better able to process
information and to learn. Therefore, greater Gf may, over time,
lead to greater Gc, as the person who processes more information

will gain more crystallized knowledge (Horn & Cattell, 1967).
Note, however, that this compelling hypothesis has received little

empirical support thus far (Nisbett et al., 2012). The second is
that it is difficult, perhaps impossible, to measure Gf without

tapping into people’s preexisting knowledge and experience, as
we discuss below.
How can science help distinguish between

fluid and crystallized intelligence?
One interesting line of research that supports the Gf/Gc
distinction comes from examining how each type changes over

the lifespan (Cattell, 1971; Horn & Cattell, 1967). In one study,
people aged 20 to 89 years were given a wide array of tasks,
including the Block Design task (see Figure 9.3 ), the Tower of
London puzzle (see Figure 9.8 ), and tests of reaction time.
Researchers have found that performance in Gf tasks declines

after a certain age, which some research estimates as middle
adulthood (Bugg et al., 2006), whereas other studies place the

beginning of the decline as early as the end of adolescence
(Avolio & Waldman, 1994; Baltes & Lindenberger, 1997).

Measures of Gc (see Figure 9.9 ), by comparison, show greater
stability as a person ages (Schaie, 1994). Healthy, older adults

generally do not show much decline, if any, in their crystallized
knowledge, at least until they reach their elderly years (Miller et
al., 2009).
Figure 9.8 Measuring Fluid Intelligence

The Tower of London problem has several versions, each of
which requires the test taker to plan and keep track of rules. For
example, the task might involve moving the coloured beads from
the initial position so that they match any of the various end goal
positions.
Source: Shallice, T. (1982). Specific impairments of planning. Philosophical Transcripts of

the Royal Society of London, B 298, 199–209. “Measuring Fluid Intelligence.” Copyright ©
1982 by The Royal Society. Reprinted by permission of The Royal Society.
Figure 9.9 Measuring Crystallized Intelligence

Crystallized intelligence refers to facts, such as names of
countries.
Neurobiological evidence further backs this up. The functioning
of brain regions associated with Gf tasks declines sooner than the

functioning of those regions supporting Gc tasks (Geake &
Hansen, 2010). For example, the decline of Gf with age is
associated with reduced efficiency in the prefrontal cortex (Braver
& Barch, 2002), a key brain region involved in the cognitive
abilities that underlie fluid intelligence (as discussed below). In

contrast, this brain region does not play a central role in
crystallized intelligence, which is more dependent on long-term
memory systems that involve a number of different regions of the
cortex.
Can we critically evaluate crystallized and

fluid intelligence?
There are certainly questions we can ask about crystallized and
fluid intelligence. For one, is there really any such thing as fluid
intelligence, or does it merely break down into specific sub-
abilities?
Psychologists generally accept that fluid intelligence is a blending

of multiple cognitive abilities. For example, the abilities to switch
attention from one stimulus to another, inhibit distracting
information from interfering with concentration, sustain attention

on something at will, and keep multiple pieces of information in
working memory at the same time are all part of fluid intelligence
(Blair, 2006). If Gf is simply a statistical creation that reflects the
integration of these different processes, perhaps researchers
would be better off focusing their attention on these systems,

rather than the more abstract construct Gf.
Another critique is that fluid and crystallized intelligence are not,

after all, entirely separable. Consider the fact that crystallized
intelligence involves not only possessing knowledge, but also
being able to access that knowledge when it’s needed. Fluid
cognitive processes, and the brain areas that support them such
as the prefrontal cortex, play important roles in both storing and
retrieving crystallized knowledge from long-term memory
(Ranganath et al., 2003).

Recognizing the distinctiveness of Gf and Gc can help to reduce
stereotypes and expectations about intelligence in older persons,
reminding people that although certain kinds of intelligence may
decline with age, other types that rely on accumulated knowledge
and wisdom may even increase as we get older (Kaufman, 2001).

Also, research on fluid intelligence has helped psychologists to
develop a much more detailed understanding of the full
complement of cognitive processes that make up intelligence, and
to devise tests that measure these processes more precisely.

Gardner’s Theory of Multiple Intelligences
Debates about the interpretation of g has led to some diverse opinions
about intelligence. Although the nested approach has by far the best
evidence to support it, some researchers look for different approaches
that may be more useful. Doing so is an important part of science: By
challenging accepted beliefs, we can either strengthen the evidence of

them or find some major weaknesses.
In one well-known attempt to challenge the concept of g, Howard
Gardner proposed an elaborate theory of multiple intelligences. Gardner
was inspired by specific cases, such as people who were savants

(discussed in the introduction to this module), who had extraordinary
abilities in limited domains, very poor abilities in many others, and low g.
Gardner was also influenced by cases of people with brain damage, which
indicated that some specific abilities could be dramatically affected while
others remained intact (Gardner, 1983, 1999). He also noted that “normal
people” (presumably, those of us who are not savants and also don’t have
brain damage) differ widely in their abilities and talents, having a knack
for some things but hopeless at others, which doesn’t fit the notion that
intelligence is a single, overarching ability. In other words, the evidence
for g shows that in general, people good at one kind of test are good at
others. However, it is quite normal to find examples to the contrary. If
there really is a single intelligence, how can we explain the disparities in
these cases?
Based on his observations, Gardner proposed a theory of multiple
intelligences , a model claiming that there are seven (now updated to at least
nine) different forms of intelligence, each independent from the others (see
Table 9.1 ). The first three types of intelligence in Table 9.1  should be
familiar by now. These are the intellectual skills found in traditional
intelligence tests such as the WAIS or Raven’s Matrices. When you reach
the fourth row of the table, however, you should notice a big difference—
bodily intelligence is a completely new proposal. Think about what that
might entail. We all know at least one person who is a skilled athlete in
one sport, and who can almost instantly pick up any other sport. At the
same time, we also know that person who can barely walk across a flat
surface without tripping over their feet. Most of us, of course, are
somewhere in the middle. Saying that people vary in physical skill is one
thing, but Gardner is going beyond that. What others have called skill, he
considers intelligence.
Table 9.1 Gardner’s Proposed Forms of Intelligence

Source: The Nine Types of Intelligence by Gardner, H. (2006). Multiple Intelligences: New Horizons
in Theory and Practice. New York: Basic Books.
As intuitively appealing as this is, critics have pointed out that few of
Gardner’s intelligences can be accurately and reliably measured, making
his theory unfalsifiable and difficult to research. For example, how would
you reliably measure “existential intelligence” or “bodily/kinesthetic
intelligence”? You cannot simply ask people how existential they are, or
how well they are able to attune to their bodies, relative to other people.
Creating operational definitions of these concepts has proven to be a

difficult challenge and has held back empirical work on Gardner’s theory.
This is not a critique against Gardner specifically, but rather, highlights

the need for researchers to develop better ways of measuring intelligence
(Tirri & Nokelainen, 2008).
Myths in Mind
Learning Styles
If there is one single myth that vexes the most cognitive
psychologists to the greatest degree, it is the widespread

belief that people have individualized learning styles. As the
myth goes, people process information better through specific

modalities, such as sight, hearing, and bodily movement. If this
is true, then it suggests that people have different learning
styles (e.g., people may be visual learners, auditory learners,

tactile learners, etc.), and therefore, educators would be more
effective if they tailor their lesson plans to the learning styles of

their students.
Such an idea sounds nice. It recognizes that individuals are

unique and special in many ways, and it ties into proposals
about multiple forms of intelligence. However, finding evidence

to support this theory has proven difficult. In fact, dozens of
studies have failed to show any benefit for tailoring information

to an individual’s apparent learning style (Pasher et al., 2008).
This result probably reflects the fact that regardless of how you
encounter information—through reading, watching, listening, or
moving around—retaining it over the long term largely depends
on how deeply you process and store the meaning of the

information (Willingham, 2004). If you need to know the location
and geographical context of Senegal, for example, a visual
presentation with some explanation is probably best for all
students—learning styles have nothing to do with it. As a result,
rather than trying to match the way that information is

presented to the presumed learning styles of students, it is
likely far more important for teachers to be able to engage
students in ways they find interesting, meaningful, fun,
personally relevant, and experientially engaging.
Gardner’s theory has not had a large impact in psychology in the more
than 30 years since its initial proposal. It rarely appears in scientific

literature, although we include it in this chapter because it exerts some
influence in applied fields, such as education. Critics rightly point to the
lack of reliable ways of measuring Gardner’s different intelligences and,
as we hope you recall from Chapter 2 , scientific ideas must be

observable and testable. It is equally important to have operational
definitions of scientific constructs, and critics of multiple intelligences
sometimes claim that it simply means “to be good at something.” In other
words, mainstream psychology describes intelligence as “good at
cognitive tasks” whereas multiple intelligence theory really only adds

“good at physical movements,” “good at working with other people,” and
so on. From the applied perspective, Gardner’s theory is useful in that it
reminds teachers to connect with and motivate students with different
strengths. It helps people to see themselves as capable in different ways,
rather than feeling limited by their IQ score, especially if it is not very
high. And it reminds us to appreciate the wide range of human abilities

and accomplishments far better than a mere IQ score.
Psych@
The NHL
For some reason, many of us enjoy participating in or watching

activities that put the brain at high risk for injury. Take hockey,
for example. Despite wearing head protection, players still
suffer head injuries from collisions with each other, running
into the boards, getting punched in the face, and landing on
the ice. Although the NHL does not release precise medical
statistics (citing players’ privacy), researchers have been able
to estimate the rate of concussions at about 80 per season
(Wennberg & Tator, 2003; Wennberg & Tator, 2008) with
countless less severe knocks and bumps every game. All of

these can add up over time, leading to Chronic Traumatic
Encephalopathy (CTE), a degenerative brain condition
associated with memory loss, dementia, mood disorders, and
suicidality. CTE is a devastating condition, and the NHL recently

filed a legal settlement with over 300 former players to fund
medical treatment and prevention efforts.
So how does intelligence testing fit in? First, you should know
that CTE develops over time rather than after a single brain
injury. Early detection would allow players and medical
personnel to make smarter, more informed decisions about
when and if to return to the sport, thus reducing the additive

effect of further injury. Unfortunately, the severity of a head
injury is not that easy to diagnose either on the bench or at a
clinic the day after the game. Furthermore, you can’t just give a
cognitive test to a player after a hit and find out what has
changed; you need to know where that individual’s abilities
were to start with. Therefore, many sports leagues and teams
now require baseline cognitive testing. NHL players complete
baseline testing with a computer-based testing package called

ImPACT. In fact, if you play on one of your university’s teams,
you may already be familiar with this test.
Once each year, usually preceding the beginning of pre-season

training, players will complete a cognitive exam to measure
various intellectual abilities. Whereas intelligence tests provide
dozens of small tasks that can be combined to estimate

comprehensive scores such as g, verbal ability, or
mathematical ability, sports testing keeps the tests separate.
This is because head injuries tend to affect only a few cognitive
skills, not g, so players complete tests of judgment, memory,

perception, and response, times among other skills. Following
a head injury, players can be tested again to see if there are
declines in any of these specific abilities, even if an overall
score like g would not reflect much change. If there is a
significant drop in a narrow set of scores, there is a good

chance that the brain has suffered a significant injury and
players should not return to play.
Although baseline testing by itself won’t reduce concussions, it

does make the detection of significant brain injury more
effective. By facilitating full recovery and reducing re-injury,
sports teams will hopefully be able to prevent CTE.

In the 1990s, NHL player Todd Ewen was known for getting
into at least one fistfight in virtually every game of his 11
seasons. The repeated fighting likely added to the normal
bumps experienced in hockey. After retirement, he began acting
hostile, depressed, and disoriented—all signs of CTE—and took
his own life when he was in his 40s.
MIGUEL MEDINA/Stringer/AFP/Getty Images

The Battle of the Sexes
The distinction between g and multiple intelligences plays an important

role in the oft-asked question, “Who is smarter, females or males?”
Although earlier studies showed some average intelligence differences
between males and females, this finding has not been upheld by
subsequent research and is likely the result of bias in the tests that
favoured males over females. One of the most conclusive studies used 42
different tests of mental abilities to compare males and females and found
almost no differences in intelligence between the sexes (Johnson &
Bouchard, 2007).
Some research has found that although males and females have the same
average IQ score, there is much greater variability in male scores; there
are more men with substantial intellectual challenges, as well as more
men who score at the very highest levels (Deary et al., 2007; Dykiert et
al., 2009). However, before you assume these facts reflect innate
biological difference between the sexes, you should know that things are
not as simple as they first appear. For example, one type of test that
shows this male advantage at the upper levels of ability examines math
skills on standardized tests. A few decades ago, about 12 times more

males than females scored at the very top (Benbow & Stanley, 1983). This
difference has decreased in recent years to three to four times as many
males scoring at the top end of the spectrum. Not surprisingly, this
change has occurred just as the number of math courses being taken by
females—and the efforts made to increase female enrollment in such

courses—has increased. So, the difference in results between the sexes is
still there, but has been vastly reduced as a result of sociocultural
changes, such as making math education more accessible for females
(Wai et al., 2010). This trend may continue, and there seems to be no
reason why females won’t outperform males, on average, at some point in
the near future.

Do Males and Females Have Unique
Cognitive Skills?
Although the results discussed above suggest that males and females are
equally intelligent, when multiple intelligences are considered, rather
than overall IQ, a clear difference between the sexes does emerge.
Females are, on average, better at verbal abilities, some memory tasks,
and the ability to read people’s basic emotions, whereas males have the
advantage on visuospatial abilities, such as mentally rotating objects or
aiming at objects (see Figure 9.10 ; Halpern & LaMay, 2000; Johnson &
Bouchard, 2007; Tottenham et al., 2005; Weiss et al., 2003).
Figure 9.10 Mental Rotation and Verbal Fluency Tasks

Some research indicates that, on average, males outperform females on
mental rotation tasks (a), while females outperform men on verbal
fluency (b).
This finding is frequently offered as an explanation for why males are

more represented in fields like engineering, science, and mathematics.
However, there are many other factors that could explain the under-
representation of women in these disciplines, such as prevalent
stereotypes that discourage girls from entering the maths and sciences,
parents from supporting them in doing so, and teachers from evaluating
females’ work without bias.
Overlooking the many other factors that limit females’ participation in the
maths and sciences is a dangerous thing to do. This was dramatically

shown in 2005 when the President of Harvard University, Lawrence
Summers, was removed from his position shortly after making a speech in
which he argued that innate differences between the sexes may be
responsible for under-representation of women in science and
engineering. The outrage many expressed at his comments reflected the
fact that many people realize that highlighting innate differences while
minimizing or ignoring systemic factors only serves to perpetuate
problems, not solve them.

Module 9.2 Summary
9.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to understanding

intelligence.
Review Module 9.2
9.2b Understand . . . why intelligence is divided into fluid and

crystallized types.
Mental abilities encompass both the amount of knowledge accumulated
and the ability to solve new problems. This understanding is consistent

not only with our common views of intelligence, but also with the results
of decades of intelligence testing. Also, the observation that fluid
intelligence can decline over the lifespan, even as crystallized intelligence
remains constant, lends further support to the contention that they are
different abilities.
9.2c Understand . . . intelligence differences between males and

females.
Males and females generally show equal levels of overall intelligence, as

measured by standard intelligence tests. However, men do outperform
women on some tasks, particularly spatial tasks such as mentally rotating
objects, whereas women outperform men on other tasks, such as
perceiving emotions. Although there are some male–female differences in
specific abilities, such as math, it is not yet clear whether these reflect
innate differences between the sexes or whether other factors are
responsible, such as reduced enrollment of women in math classes and
the presence of stereotype threat in testing sessions.
9.2d Apply . . . . your knowledge to identify examples that reflect

fluid vs. crystallized intelligence.
This distinction distinguishes between accumulated knowledge over time

(crystallized) and the ability to learn and use new information and skill
(fluid).
Apply Activity
9.2e Analyze . . . whether teachers should spend time tailoring
lessons to each individual student’s learning style.
Certainly, no one would want to discourage teachers from being attentive

to the unique characteristics that each student brings to the classroom.
However, large-scale reviews of research suggest that there is little basis

for individualized teaching based on learning styles (e.g., auditory, visual,
kinesthetic).
Module 9.3 Biological,
Environmental, and Behavioural
Influences on Intelligence
MIGUEL MEDINA/Stringer/AFP/Getty Images

9.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to heredity, environment,
and intelligence.
9.3b Understand . . . different approaches to studying the genetic

basis of intelligence.
9.3c Apply . . . your knowledge of environmental and behavioural
effects on intelligence to understand how to enhance your own
cognitive abilities.
9.3d Analyze . . . the belief that older children are more intelligent
than their younger siblings.
In 1955, the world lost one of the most brilliant scientists in history:
Albert Einstein. Although you are probably familiar with his greatest
scientific achievements, you may not know about what happened to
him after he died—or, more specifically, what happened to his brain.
Upon his death, a forward-thinking pathologist, Dr. Thomas Harvey,

removed Einstein’s brain (his body was later cremated) so that it could
be studied in the hope that medical scientists would eventually unlock

the secret to his genius. Dr. Harvey took photographs of Einstein’s
brain, and then it was sliced up into hundreds of tissue samples placed
on microscope slides, and 240 larger blocks of brain matter, which were
preserved in fluid. Surprisingly, Dr. Harvey concluded that the brain
wasn’t at all remarkable, except for being smaller than average (1230 g,
compared to the average of 1300 to 1400 g).
You might expect that Einstein’s brain was intensively studied by

leading neurologists. But, instead, the brain mysteriously disappeared.
Twenty-two years later, a journalist named Steven Levy tried to find

Einstein’s brain. The search was fruitless until Levy tracked down Dr.
Harvey in Wichita, Kansas, and interviewed him in his office. Dr.
Harvey was initially reluctant to tell Levy anything about the brain,
but eventually admitted that he still had it. In fact, he kept it right there
in his office! Sheepishly, Dr. Harvey opened a box labelled “Costa Cider”
and there, inside two large jars, floated the chunks of Einstein’s brain.
Levy later wrote, “My eyes were fixed upon that jar as I tried to
comprehend that these pieces of gunk bobbing up and down had caused
a revolution in physics and quite possibly changed the course of
civilization. Swirling in formaldehyde was the power of the smashed

atom, the mystery of the universe’s black holes, the utter miracle of
human achievement” (Levy, 2015).
Since that time, several research teams have discovered important

abnormalities in Einstein’s brain. Einstein had a higher than normal
ratio of glial cells to neurons in the left parietal lobe (Diamond et al.,
1985) and parts of the temporal lobes (Kigar et al., 1997), and a higher
density of neurons in the right frontal lobe (Anderson & Harvey, 1996).
Einstein’s parietal lobe has been shown to be about 15% larger than
average, and to contain an extra fold (Witelson et al., 1999). The frontal
lobes contain extra convolutions (folds and creases) as well. These extra
folds increase the surface area and neural connectivity in those areas.
How might these unique features have affected Einstein’s intelligence?

The frontal lobes are heavily involved in abstract thought, and the
parietal lobes are involved in spatial processing, which plays a

substantial role in mathematics. Thus, these unique brain features may
provide a key part of the neuroanatomical explanation for Einstein’s

remarkable abilities in math and physics. Einstein not only had a
unique mind, but a unique brain.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be as smart as Einstein? Or even just smarter
than you already are? Imagine if you could boost your IQ, upgrading your
brain like you might upgrade a hard drive. You could learn more easily,
think faster, and remember more. What benefits might you enjoy?
Greater success? A cure for cancer? A Nobel Prize? At least you might not
have to study as much to get good grades. As you will read in this
module, there are in fact ways to improve your intelligence (although
perhaps not to “Einsteinian” levels). However, to understand how these

techniques can benefit us, we must also understand how our biology and
our environment—nature and nurture—interact to influence intelligence.
Biological Influences on Intelligence
The story of Einstein’s brain shows us, once again, that our behaviours
and abilities are linked to our biology. However, although scientists have
been interested in these topics for over 100 years, we are only beginning
to understand the complex processes that influence measures like IQ
scores. In this section, we discuss the genetic and neural factors that
influence intelligence, and how they may interact with our environment.
The Genetics of Intelligence: Twin and
Adoption Studies
The belief that intelligence is a capacity that we are born with has been
widely held since the early studies of intelligence. However, early
researchers lacked today’s sophisticated methods for studying genetic

influences, so they had to rely upon their observations of whether
intelligence ran in families, which it seemed to do (see Module 9.1 ).
Since those early days, many studies have been conducted to see just how
large the genetic influence on intelligence may be.
Studies of twins and children who have been adopted have been key
tools, allowing researchers to begin estimating the genetic contribution to
intelligence. Decades of such research have shown that genetic similarity
does contribute to intelligence test scores. Several important findings
from this line of study are summarized in Figure 9.11  (Plomin &
Spinath, 2004). The most obvious trend in the figure shows that as the
degree of genetic relatedness increases, similarity in IQ scores also
increases. The last two bars on the right of Figure 9.11  present perhaps
the strongest evidence for a genetic basis for intelligence. The intelligence
scores of identical twins correlate with each other at about .85 when they
are raised in the same home, which is much higher than the correlation
for fraternal twins. Even when identical twins are adopted and raised
apart, their intelligence scores are still correlated at approximately .80—a
very strong relationship. In fact, this is about the same correlation that
researchers find when individuals take the same intelligence test twice
and are compared with themselves!
Figure 9.11 Intelligence and Genetic Relatedness
Several types of comparisons reveal genetic contributions to intelligence

(Plomin & Spinath, 2004). Generally, the closer the biological
relationship between people, the more similar their intelligence scores.
Source: Adapted from Plomin, R., & Spinath, F. M. (2004). Intelligence: Genetics, genes, and
genomics. Journal of Personality & Social Psychology, 86(1), 112–129.
The Heritability of Intelligence
Overall, the heritability of intelligence is estimated to be between 40%
and 80% (Nisbett et al., 2012). However, interpreting what this means is
extremely tricky. People often think that this means 40% or more of a
person’s intelligence is determined by genes, but this is a serious
misunderstanding of heritability. Estimates of heritability represent how

much of the differences between people in a single sample can be
accounted for by differences in their genes (see Module 3.1 ). This
means that a heritability estimate is not a single, fixed number for all
humans. Instead, it is a number that depends on the sample of people being
studied. Heritability estimates for different samples can be very different.

For example, the heritability of intelligence for wealthy people has been
estimated to be about 72%, but for people living in poverty, it’s only 10%
(Turkheimer et al., 2003). Why might this be?
The key to solving this puzzle is to recognize that heritability estimates

depend on other factors, such as how different or similar people’s
environments are. If people in a sample inhabit highly similar
environments, the heritability estimate will almost certainly be higher—
there will be fewer environmental differences to influence the emergence
of cognitive ability. Even if children live in very different geographical
areas, the parents and communities have the resources to provide quality
nutrition, housing, and schools. There are highly educated role models
and parents have more time and resources to provide direct support.
These factors contribute fairly equally to the intelligence of wealthy

people. Thus, differences in their intelligence scores are largely explained
by genetic differences.
In contrast, when looking at impoverished environments, the heritability
estimate will be lower because there are so many outside factors that
influence IQ. For example, North American children growing up in low-
income rural areas have higher verbal ability scores on average when
compared to urban peers. Meanwhile, low-income children from the city
tend to score higher on visual working memory tests. One hypothesis for
these differences is that urban life features significant noise pollution,

which, in other studies, has been shown to be detrimental to verbal
ability. Meanwhile, the complex, constantly changing visual stimuli in the
city require constant attention, so urban children exercise those abilities
more (Tine, 2014).
There are many other problems with interpreting heritability estimates as
indications that genes cause differences in intelligence. Two of the most
important both have to do with an under-appreciation for how genes
interact with the environment. First, as discussed in Module 3.1 , genes

do not operate in isolation from the environment. We know now that the
“nature vs. nurture” debate has evolved into a discussion of how “nurture
shapes nature.” Environmental factors determine how genes express
themselves and influence the organism.
Second, genes that influence intelligence may do so indirectly, operating

through other factors. For example, imagine genes that promote novelty-
seeking. People with these genes would be more likely to expose

themselves to new ideas and new ways of doing things. This tendency to
explore, rooted in their genes, may lead them to become more intelligent.
However, in more dangerous environments, these novelty-seeking genes

could expose the person to more danger. Therefore, genes that encourage
exploratory behaviour might be related to higher intelligence in relatively

safe environments, but in dangerous environments might be related to
getting eaten by cave-bears more often.
Behavioural Genomics
Twin and adoption studies show that some of the individual differences
observed in intelligence scores can be attributed to genetic factors. But
these studies do not tell us which genes account for the differences. To
answer that question, researchers use behavioural genomics, a technique
that examines how specific genes interact with the environment to

influence behaviours, including those related to intelligence. Thus far, the
main focus of the behavioural genomics approach to intelligence is to
identify genes that are related to cognitive abilities, such as learning and
problem solving (Deary et al., 2010).
Overall, studies scanning the whole human genome show that
intelligence levels can be predicted, to some degree, by the collection of
genes that individuals inherit (Craig & Plomin, 2006; Plomin & Spinath,
2004). Thanks to increasingly sophisticated research techniques,
researchers have uncovered over 50 genes that covary with intelligence

test scores (Sniekers et al., 2017). These collections of genes seem to pool
together to influence general cognitive ability; although each contributes
a small amount, the contributions combine to have a larger effect. Of
course, finding these correlations does not explain how these genes
influence intelligence, but a number of the genes have been shown to
contribute to nerve cell development. Thus, there is still a long way to go
before we can say that we understand the genetic contributors to
intelligence.
One way of speeding the research up has been to develop ways of
experimenting with genes directly, in order to see what they do. Gene
knockout (KO) studies  involve removing a specific gene and comparing the
characteristics of animals with and without that gene. In one of the first
knockout studies of intelligence, researchers discovered that removing
one particular gene disrupted the ability of mice to learn spatial layouts
(Silva et al., 1992). Since this investigation was completed, numerous
studies using gene knockout methods have shown that specific genes are
related to performance on tasks that have been adapted to study learning
and cognitive abilities in animals (Robinson et al., 2011).
Scientists can also take the opposite approach; instead of knocking genes
out, they can insert genetic material into mouse chromosomes to study
the changes associated with the new gene. The animal that receives this
so-called gene transplant is referred to as a transgenic animal. Although
this approach may sound like science fiction, it has already yielded
important discoveries, such as transgenic mice that are better than
average learners (Cao et al., 2007; Tang et al., 1999).
One now-famous example is the creation of “Doogie mice,” named after
the 1990s TV character Doogie Howser (played by a young Neil Patrick

Harris), a genius who became a medical doctor while still a teenager.
Doogie mice were created by manipulating a single gene, NR2B (Tang et

al., 1999). This gene encodes the NMDA receptor, which plays a crucial
role in learning and memory. Having more NMDA receptors should,

therefore, allow organisms to retain more information (and possibly to
access it more quickly). Consistent with this view, Doogie mice with
altered NR2B genes learned significantly faster and had better memories
than did other mice. For example, when the Doogie mice and normal
mice were put into a tank of water in which they had to find a hidden
platform in order to escape, the Doogie mice took half as many trials to
remember how to get out of the tank.

The Princeton University lab mouse, Doogie, is able to learn faster than
other mice thanks to a bit of genetic engineering. Researchers inserted a
gene known as NR2B that helps create new synapses and leads to quicker
learning.
Princeton University/KRT/Newscom
The different types of studies reviewed in this section show us that genes
do have some effect on intelligence. What they don’t really show us is

how these effects occur. What causes individual differences in
intelligence? One theory suggests that these differences could be due to

varying brain size.
Brain Size and Intelligence
Are bigger brains more intelligent? We often assume that to be
the case—think of the cartoon characters that are super-geniuses;

they almost always have gigantic heads. Sure, the real-life
Einstein’s brain may have been smaller than average, but perhaps
that’s just an exception to the rule? Many psychologists over the
past 150 years have also assumed a correlation between brain

size and ability, and have invested great effort and resources to
prove it.
What do we know about brain size and

intelligence?
Brain-based approaches to measuring intelligence rest on a
commonsense assumption: Thinking occurs in the brain, so a
larger brain should be related to greater intelligence. But does
scientific evidence support this assumption? In the days before
modern brain imaging was possible, researchers typically

obtained skulls from deceased subjects, filled them with fine-
grained matter such as metal pellets, and then transferred the
pellets to a flask to measure the volume. These efforts taught us
very little about intelligence and brain or skull size, but a lot
about problems with measurement and racial prejudice. In some
cases, the studies were highly flawed and inevitably led to
conclusions that Caucasian males (including the Caucasian male

scientists who conducted these experiments) had the largest
brains and, therefore, were the smartest of the human race
(Gould, 1981). Modern approaches to studying the brain and
intelligence are far more sophisticated, thanks to newer
techniques and a more enlightened knowledge of the brain’s
form and functions.

between brain size and intelligence?
In relatively rare cases, researchers have had the two most
important pieces of data needed: brains, and people attached to
those brains who had taken intelligence tests when they were
alive. In one ambitious study at McMaster University, Sandra
Witelson and her colleagues (2006) collected 100 brains of
deceased individuals who had previously completed the
Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale (WAIS). Detailed anatomical

examinations and size measurements were made on the entire
brains and certain regions that support cognitive skills. For
women and right-handed men (but not left-handed men), 36% of
the variation in verbal intelligence scores was accounted for by
the size of the brain; however, brain size did not significantly
account for the other component of intelligence that was
measured: visuospatial abilities. Thus, it appears that brain size
does predict intelligence, but certainly doesn’t tell the whole

story.
In addition to the size of the brain and its various regions, there
are other features of our neuroanatomy that might be important

to consider. The most obvious, perhaps, is the convoluted surface
of fissures and folds (called gyri; pronounced “ji-rye”) that
comprise the outer part of the cerebral cortex (see Figure 9.12 ).
Interestingly, the number and size of these cerebral gyri seems
strongly related to intelligence across different species. Species

that have complex cognitive and social lives, such as elephants,
dolphins, and primates, have particularly convoluted cortices
(Marino, 2002; Rogers et al., 2010). And indeed, even within

humans, careful studies using brain imaging technology have
shown that having more convolutions on the surface of certain

parts of the cortex was also positively correlated with scores on
the WAIS intelligence test, accounting for approximately 25% of

the variability in WAIS scores (Luders et al., 2008).
Figure 9.12 Does Intelligence Increase with Brain Size?
While the size of the brain may have a modest relationship to

intelligence, the convolutions or “gyri” along the surface of the
cortex are another important factor: Increased convolutions are
associated with higher intelligence test scores.
Can we critically evaluate this issue?

A common critique of studies examining brain size and IQ is that
it is not always clear what processes or abilities are being tested.
IQ scores could be measuring a number of things, including

working memory, processing speed, ability to pay attention, or
even motivation to perform well on the test. Therefore, when
studies show that brain size can account for 25% of the variability
in IQ scores, it is not always clear what ability (or abilities) are
underlying these results.
Another potential problem is the third-variable problem. Even if

brain size and performance on intelligence tests are correlated
with each other, it might be the case that they are both related to
some other factor, like stress, nutrition, physical health,
environmental toxins, or the amount of enriching stimulation
experienced during childhood (Choi et al., 2008). If these other
factors can account for the relationship between brain size and
intelligence, then the brain–IQ relationship itself may be
overestimated.
A final critique is simply the recognition that there is more to

intelligence than just the size of your brain. After all, if brain size
explains 25% of the variability in IQ scores, the other 75% must
be due to other things.

It’s not likely that we will soon be measuring brain size for things
such as university admissions—we have other tests for that.

However, this research is important for reasons that go far
beyond the issue of intelligence and aptitude tests. As the
examination of Einstein’s brain illustrates, the overall size of the
brain may be less important than the size and structure of specific
regions. Research focusing on the relationship between specific
brain structures and functions is proving very important indeed.
For example, certain harmful patterns of behaviour, such as
anorexia nervosa (a psychological disorder marked by self-

starvation) or prolonged periods of alcohol abuse, have both
been shown to lead to changes in cognitive abilities and
corresponding loss of brain volume (e.g., McCormick et al., 2008;
Schottenbauer et al., 2007). Measurements of brain volume have

also played a key role in understanding the impaired neurological
and cognitive development of children growing up in
institutional settings (e.g., orphanages), as well as how these
children benefit from adoption, foster care, or increased social
contact (Sheridan et al., 2012). Better understanding of how

experiences like anorexia, alcoholism, and child neglect affect
brain development may provide ways of developing effective
interventions that could help people who have suffered from such
experiences.
Environmental Influences on
Intelligence
As described earlier, research on the biological underpinnings of
intelligence repeatedly emphasizes the importance of environmental
factors. For example, environmental conditions determine which genes
get expressed (“turned on”) for a given individual. Thus, without the right
circumstances, genes can’t appropriately affect the person’s development.

Also, brain areas involved in intelligence are responsive to a wide variety
of environmental factors. The full story of how “nature” influences
intelligence is intricately bound up with the story of how “nurture”
influences intelligence.
Both animal and human studies have demonstrated how environmental
factors influence cognitive abilities. Controlled experiments with animals
show that growing up in physically and socially stimulating environments
results in faster learning and enhanced brain development compared to
growing up in a dull environment (Hebb, 1947; Tashiro et al., 2007). For
example, classic studies in the 1960s showed that rats who grew up in
enriched environments (i.e., these rats enjoyed toys, ladders, and
tunnels) ended up with bigger brains than rats who grew up in
impoverished environments (i.e., simple wire cages). Not only were their
cerebral cortices approximately 5% larger (Diamond et al., 1964;
Rosenzweig et al., 1962), but their cortices contained 25% more synapses
(Diamond et al., 1964). With more synapses, the brain can make more
associations, potentially enhancing cognitive abilities such as learning

and creativity. In this section, we review some of the major
environmental factors that influence intelligence.

Birth Order
One of the most difficult environmental factors to research is birth order.
Does intelligence depend to some degree on whether you were the oldest
child in your family, or whether you were lower in the pecking order of
your siblings? Debate about this issue has continued for many decades
within psychology (and even more fiercely among many siblings). The
evidence seems to indicate that birth order does matter. For example, a
2007 study of more than 240 000 people in Norway found that the IQs of
first-born children are, on average, about three points higher than those
of second-born children and four points higher than those of third-born
children (Kristensen & Bjerkedal, 2007).
Why birth order matters is far more debatable. It could be that the first
born gets the most one-to-one interaction with parents during the first
years of life, and perhaps also the most highly motivated parents.
Meanwhile, the third and fourth children are part of a crowd, and the
exhausted parents cannot possibly provide the same amount of high
quality attention to the later-born kids (Price, 2008; Lehmann et al.,
2018). This is not just a disadvantage for the younger sibling. Older
siblings, like it or not, end up tutoring and mentoring younger siblings,
imparting the wisdom they have gained through experiences. Although
this may help the younger sibling, the act of teaching their knowledge
benefits the older sibling more (Zajonc, 1976). The act of teaching
requires the older sibling to rehearse previously remembered information
and to reorganize it in a way that their younger sibling will understand.

Teaching therefore leads to a deeper processing of the information,
which, in turn, increases the likelihood that it will be remembered later
Before any first-born children reading this section start building
monuments to their greatness, it is important to note that the differences
between the IQs of first- and later-born siblings are quite small: three or
four points. There will definitely be many individual families in which the
later-born kids have higher IQs than their first-born siblings.
Nevertheless, this finding is one example of how environments can

influence intelligence.
Socioeconomic Status
One of the most robust findings in the intelligence literature is that IQ
correlates strongly with socioeconomic status (SES). It is perhaps no
surprise that children growing up in wealthy homes have, on average,
higher IQs than those growing up in poverty (Turkheimer et al., 2003),
but there may be many reasons for this that have nothing to do with the
“innate” or potential intelligence of the rich or the poor. Think of the
many environmental differences and greater access to resources and
opportunities enjoyed by the wealthy! For example, consider how much
language children are exposed to at home. One U.S. study estimated that
by age three, children of professional parents will have heard 30 million

words, children of working-class parents will have heard only 20 million
words, and children of unemployed African-American mothers will have
heard only 10 million words. Furthermore, the level of vocabulary is
strikingly different for families in the different socioeconomic categories,
with professional families using the most sophisticated language (Hart &
Risley, 1995).
Socioeconomic status is related to intelligence. People from low-
socioeconomic backgrounds typically have far fewer opportunities to
access educational and other important resources that contribute to
intellectual growth.
John Dominis/Getty Images
Other studies have shown that higher SES homes are much more
enriching and supportive of children’s intellectual development—high SES

parents talk to their children more; have more books, magazines, and
newspapers in the home; give them more access to computers; take them
to more learning experiences outside the home (e.g., visits to museums);
and are less punitive toward their children (Bradley et al., 1993; Phillips
et al., 1998).
Unfortunately, the effects of SES don’t end here. SES interacts with a
number of other factors that can influence intelligence, including
nutrition, stress, and education. The difference between rich and poor
people’s exposure to these factors almost certainly affects the IQ gap
between the two groups.
Nutrition
It’s a cliché we are all familiar with—“you are what you eat.” Yet over the
past century, the quality of the North American diet has plummeted as we
have adopted foods that are highly processed, high in sugar and fat, low
in fibre and nutrients, and laden with chemicals (preservatives, colours,
and flavourings). Some evidence suggests that poor nutrition could have
negative effects on intelligence. For example, research has shown that
diets high in saturated fat quickly lead to sharp declines in cognitive
functioning in both animal and human subjects. In contrast, diets low in
such fats and high in fruits, vegetables, fish, and whole grains are
associated with higher cognitive functioning (Greenwood & Winocur,

2005; Parrott & Greenwood, 2007).
A massive longitudinal study on diet is currently underway in the United
Kingdom. The Avon Longitudinal Study of Parents and Children is
following the development of children born to 14 000 women in the early

1990s. This research has shown that a “poor” diet (high in fat, sugar, and
processed foods) early in life leads to reliably lower IQ scores by age
eight-and-a-half, whereas a “health-conscious” diet (emphasizing salads,
rice, pastas, fish, and fruit) leads to higher IQs. Importantly, this was true
even when researchers accounted for the effects of other variables, such
as socioeconomic status (Northstone et al., 2012).
So what kinds of foods should we eat to maximize our brainpower?
Although research on nutrition and intelligence is still relatively new, it

would appear that eating foods low in saturated fats and rich in omega-3
fats, whole grains, and fruits and veggies are your smartest bets.
Stress
High levels of stress in economically poor populations is also a major
factor in explaining the rich–poor IQ gap. People living in poverty are
exposed to high levels of stress through many converging factors, ranging
from higher levels of environmental noise and toxins, to more family
conflict and community violence, to less economic security and fewer

employment opportunities. These and many other stresses increase the
amounts of stress hormones such as cortisol in their bodies, which in turn
is related to poorer cognitive functioning (Evans & Schamberg, 2009).
High levels of stress also interfere with working memory (the ability to
hold multiple pieces of information in memory at one time; Evans &

Schamberg, 2009), and the ability to persevere when faced with
challenging tasks, such as difficult questions on an IQ test (Evans &
Stecker, 2004). These deficits interfere with learning in school (Blair &
Razza, 2007; Ferrer & McArdle, 2004).
The toxic effects of chronic stress show up in the brain as well, damaging
the neural circuitry of the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus, which are
critical for working memory and other cognitive abilities (e.g., controlling
attention, cognitive flexibility) as well as for the consolidation and storage
of long-term memories (McEwen, 2000). In short, too much stress makes
us not only less healthy, but can make us less intelligent as well.
Education
One of the great hopes of modern society has been that universal
education would level the playing field, allowing all children, rich and
poor alike, access to the resources necessary to achieve success.
Certainly, attending school has been shown to have a large impact on IQ
scores (Ceci, 1991). During school, children accumulate factual

knowledge, learn basic language and math skills, and learn skills related
to scientific reasoning and problem solving. Children’s IQ scores are
significantly lower if they do not attend school (Ceci & Williams, 1997;
Nisbett, 2009). In fact, for most children, IQ drops even over the months
of summer holiday (Ceci, 1991; Jencks et al., 1972), although the

wealthiest 20% actually show gains in IQ over the summer, presumably
because they enjoy activities that are even more enriching than the kinds
of experiences delivered in the classroom (Burkam et al., 2004; Cooper et
al., 2000). However, although education has the potential to help erase
the rich–poor gap in IQ, its effectiveness at doing so will depend on

whether the rich and poor have equal access to the same quality of
education and other support and resources that would allow them to
make full use of educational opportunities.
Clearly, environmental factors such as nutrition, stress, and education all
influence intelligence, which gives us some clues as to how society can
contribute to improving the intelligence of the population. Interestingly,
exactly such a trend has been widely observed across the past half-
century or so; it appears that generation after generation, people are
getting smarter!
The Flynn Effect: Large-Scale Trends in
Average IQ
The Flynn effect , named after researcher James Flynn, refers to the steady
population level increases in intelligence test scores over time (Figure 9.13 ).
This effect has been found in numerous situations across a number of

countries in samples from the mid to late 20th century. For example, in the
Dutch and French militaries, IQ scores of new recruits rose dramatically
between the 1950s and 1980s—21 points for the Dutch and about 30 for
the French (Flynn, 1987). From 1932 to 2007, Flynn estimates that, in
general, IQ scores rose about one point every three years (Flynn, 2007).
Figure 9.13 The Flynn Effect

Throughout the 20th century, there had been a general trend toward
increasing IQ scores. This trend, called the Flynn effect, seems to have
slowed, or maybe even reversed in the 2000s.
Source: Flynn, J. R. (1999). Searching for justice: The discovery of IQ gains over time. American
Psychologist, 54, 5–20.
The magnitude of the Flynn effect is striking. Imagine if the trends in the
Dutch sample described above continued: today’s group of 18-year-olds
would score 35 points higher than 18-year-olds in 1950. The average

person back then had an IQ of 100, but the average person today, taking
the same test, would score 135, which is above the cut-off considered
“gifted” in most gifted education programs! Or consider this the opposite
way—if the average person today scored 100 on today’s test, the average
person in 1950 would score about 65, enough to qualify as mentally

disabled.
If the Flynn effect meant that everyone was getting smarter, some now
wonder whether we might have a problem on our hands: the negative
Flynn effect. This is the observation that the trend of increasing IQ scores
has stalled, and it looks like it has even reversed in some places (Dutton
et al., 2016). We doubt there is any cause for alarm, however, because the
generations at the beginning of the Flynn effect were quite intelligent,
achieving remarkable things in science, arts, and other intellectually

challenging areas. Instead, the negative Flynn effect provides an
opportunity to more closely examine the causes for widespread, long-
term trends in IQ gains and declines. For example, researchers have built
strong evidence against the dysgenic hypothesis—the apparently
mistaken assertation that IQs are going down because low-IQ parents are
having more children than high-IQ parents, or that immigration from
low-IQ populations is somehow “diluting” high- IQ populations.

Although it appeals to some political orientations, neither version of the
dysgenic hypothesis has any scientific support. The negative Flynn effect
has opened techniques such as comparing changes in IQ within
generations of a family versus between families, as well as within and

between various geographical regions. This recent research found new
evidence that is consistent with genetic factors, as well as environmental
influences (Bratsburg & Rogeburg, 2018; Dutton et al., 2016)
So how can environmental factors affect the IQ scores of an entire

generation? One of the most likely explanations for the Flynn effect is that
modern society requires certain types of intellectual skills, such as

abstract thinking, scientific reasoning, classification, and logical analysis.
Throughout the 20th century, each successive generation spent more time
manipulating information with their minds, more time with visual media,
and more time in school. It seems reasonable to propose that these shifts
in information processing led to the increases in IQ scores (Nisbett et al.,
2012). The end of the Flynn effect could be explained by claiming the
population has reached its peak IQ within the technological environment.

However, such conclusions are challenged by the negative Flynn effect.
Because psychologists have been able to rule out genetic factors, they
must now ask, what has changed?

Behavioural Influences on Intelligence
If you want to make yourself more intelligent, we’ve covered a number of

ways to do that—eat a brain-healthy diet, learn how to manage stress
better, keep yourself educated (if not in formal schooling, then perhaps
by continuing to be an active learner), and expose yourself to diverse and
stimulating activities. But is there anything else you can do? For example,
if you want bigger muscles, you can go to the gym and exercise. Can you
do the same thing for the brain?
#Psych
Can a Workout Strengthen Your Brain?
Over the past decade, a number of “brain training” apps have
appeared on the market claiming to improve working memory
and other cognitive skills. The idea behind such programs is
that playing games related to memory and attention will not
only improve your performance on these games, but will also

help you use those abilities in other, real-world situations. This
definitely works for athletes who target muscles groups with
weights, stretches, and repetitive motions. But the brain is not
a muscle, so does the analogy hold up?
Early tests seemed to support brain-training apps. For

instance, participants practising an “N-back” task seemed to
improve working memory. In this task, people are presented
with a stimulus, such as squares that light up on a grid, and are
asked to press a key if the position on the grid is the same as
the last trial. The task gets progressively more difficult,
requiring participants to remember what happened two, three,
or more trials ago (although it takes considerable practice for

most people to be able to reliably remember what happened
even three trials ago). Practising the N-back task was shown to
not only improve performance at that task, but also to increase
participants’ fluid intelligence (Jaeggi et al., 2008).
However, recent reviews of this area of research show that the

effects are quite limited (Foroughi et al., 2016; Simons et al.,
2016). Practising games related to working memory will
improve performance on those games, but will rarely have an
effect on other types of tasks, particularly on behaviours
occurring outside of the laboratory (Melby-Lervåg & Hulme,
2013). Although these results are disappointing for those who
want to increase their IQ scores, they help remind us of the

importance of being critical consumers of scientific
information.
Nootropic Drugs
Another behaviour that many people believe improves their cognitive
functioning is the use of certain drugs. Nootropic substances  (meaning
“affecting the mind”) are substances that are believed to beneficially affect
intelligence. Nootropics can work through many different mechanisms,
from increasing overall arousal and alertness, to changing the availability

of certain neurotransmitters, to stimulating nerve growth in the brain.
Certainly, these drugs work in some situations. For example,
methylphenidate (Ritalin) and modafinil (Provigil) are prescribed to help
people with attentional disorders. They may also boost specific functions
in the general population (Elliott et al., 1997; Turner et al., 2003);
however, these drugs not come without risk. We do not yet know what
might be the long-term consequences of these drugs, and there is also the
possibility for abuse and dependency (Sahakian & Morein-Zamir, 2007).
Because of these risks, a September 2013 review in the Canadian Medical

Association Journal recommended that doctors “should seriously consider
refusing to prescribe medications for cognitive enhancement to healthy
individuals” (Forlini et al., 2013, p. 1047).
These risks have to be weighed against the potential benefits of
developing these drugs, at least for clinical populations. For example,
researchers in the United Kingdom have argued that if nootropic drugs
could improve the cognitive functioning of Alzheimer’s patients by even a
small amount, such as a mere 1% change in the severity of the disease

each year, this would be enough not only to dramatically improve the
lives of people with Alzheimer’s and their families, but to completely
erase the predicted increases in long-term health care costs for the U.K.’s
aging population (Sahakian & Morein-Zamir, 2007).
In sum, although few people are blessed with brains as abnormally
intelligent as Einstein’s, there are practical things anyone can do to
maximize their potential brainpower that are safer than the misuse of
prescription drugs. From eating better to providing our brains with an
enriching environment, we can use the science of intelligence to make the

most out of our genetic inheritance.
Module 9.3 Summary
9.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to heredity,

environment, and intelligence.
Review Module 9.3
9.3b Understand . . . different approaches to studying the

genetic basis of intelligence.
Behavioural genetics typically involves conducting twin or adoption
studies. Behavioural genomics involves looking at gene–behaviour

relationships at the molecular level. This approach often involves using
animal models, including knockout and transgenic models.
9.3c Apply . . . your knowledge of environmental and

behavioural effects on intelligence to understand how to enhance
your own cognitive abilities.
Apply Activity
9.3d Analyze . . . the belief that older children are more

intelligent than their younger siblings.
Reviews of intelligence tests show that the oldest child in a family tends
to have a higher IQ than their younger siblings. However, this effect is
quite small: three IQ points. Importantly, this difference is not due to the
genetic superiority of the older siblings. Rather, it is likely related to the
fact that older children often spend time teaching things to their younger
siblings.
Chapter 10
Lifespan Development
10.1 Physical Development from Conception through Infancy
Methods for Measuring Developmental Trends
Zygotes to Infants: From One Cell to Billions
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Long-Term Effects
of Premature Birth
Sensory and Motor Development in Infancy
Module 10.1 Summary
10.2 Infancy and Childhood: Cognitive and Emotional
Development
Cognitive Changes: Piaget’s Cognitive Development Theory
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Evaluating Piaget
Social Development, Attachment, and Self-Awareness
Psychosocial Development
Module 10.2 Summary
10.3 Adolescence
Physical and Emotional Changes in Adolescence
Emotional Challenges in Adolescence

Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Adolescent Risk and
Decision Making
Cognitive Development: Moral Reasoning vs. Emotions
Social Development: Identity and Relationships
Module 10.3 Summary
10.4 Adulthood and Aging
From Adolescence through Middle Age
Late Adulthood
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Aging and Cognitive
Change
Module 10.4 Summary

Module 10.1 Physical Development
from Conception through Infancy
Leungchopan/Fotolia
10.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to prenatal and infant
physical development.
10.1b Understand . . . the pros and cons of different research designs
in developmental psychology.
10.1c Apply . . . your understanding to identify the best ways
expectant parents can ensure the health of their developing
fetus.
10.1d Analyze . . . the effects of preterm birth.
It is difficult to overstate the sheer miracle and profundity of birth.
Consider the following story, told by a new father. “About two days
after the birth of my first child, I was driving to the hospital and had one
of ‘those moments,’ an awe moment, when reality seems clear and
wondrous. What triggered it was that the person driving down the
highway in the car next to mine yawned. Suddenly, I remembered my
newborn baby yawning just the day before, and somehow, it hit me—
we are all just giant babies, all of us, the power broker in the business
suit, the teenager in jeans and a hoodie, the tired soccer parent in the
mini-van, and the elderly couple holding hands on the sidewalk.

Although we have invented these complex inner worlds for ourselves,
with all of our cherished opinions, political beliefs, dreams, and

aspirations, at our essence, we are giant babies. We have the same basic
needs as babies—food, security, love, air, water. Our bodies are

basically the same, only bigger. Our brains are basically the same, only
substantially more developed. Our movements are even basically the

same, just more coordinated. I like to remember that now and then,
when I feel intimidated by someone, or when I feel too self-important.
Just giant babies!”

Of course, we don’t stay “just babies” over our lives. We develop in
many complex ways as we age and learn to function in the world.
Understanding how we change, and how we stay the same, over the
course of our lives, is what developmental psychology is all about.
Developmental psychology  is the study of human physical, cognitive,

social, and behavioural characteristics across the lifespan. Take just about
anything you have encountered so far in this text, and you will probably
find psychologists approaching it from a developmental perspective. From
neuroscientists to cultural psychologists, examining how we function and

change across different stages of life raises many central and fascinating
questions.
Methods for Measuring Developmental
Trends
Studying development requires some special methods for measuring and
tracking change over time. A cross-sectional design  is used to measure
and compare samples of people at different ages at a given point in time. For
example, to study cognition from infancy to adulthood, you could
compare people of different age groups—say, groups of 1-, 5-, 10-, and 20-
year-olds. In contrast, a longitudinal design  follows the development of
the same set of individuals through time. With this type of study, you would
select a sample of infants and measure their cognitive development
periodically over the course of 20 years (see Figure 10.1 ).
Figure 10.1 Cross-Sectional and Longitudinal Methods

In cross-sectional studies, different groups of people—typically of different
ages—are compared at a single point in time. In longitudinal studies, the
same group of subjects is tracked over multiple points in time.
These different methods have different strengths and weaknesses. Cross-
sectional designs may be more cost effective than longitudinal ones, and
they allow a study to be done quickly (because you don’t have to wait
around while your participants age). On the other hand, they can suffer
from cohort effects , which are differences between people that result from
being born in different time periods. For example, if you find differences
between people born in the 2000s with those born in the 1970s, this may
reflect any number of differences between people from those time periods
—such as differences in technological advances, parenting norms, cultural

changes, environmental pollutants, nutritional practices, or many other
factors. This creates big problems in interpreting the findings of a study—

do differences between the age groups reflect normal developmental
processes or do they reflect more general differences between people

born into these time periods?
A longitudinal study fixes the problem of cohort effects, but these studies
are often difficult to carry out and tend to be costly and time consuming
to follow, due to the logistic challenges involved in following a group of

people for a long period of time. Longitudinal designs often suffer from
the problem of attrition, which occurs when participants drop out of a

study for various reasons, such as losing interest or moving away.
The combination and accumulation of cross-sectional and longitudinal

studies have taught us a great deal about the processes of human
development. This can help parents and educators who want to have a
positive influence on children’s development. It can help us understand
how to better serve the needs of those who are aging. And it can help all
of us, who just want to better understand who we are, and why we turned
out the way that we did.

Patterns of Development: Stages and
Continuity
One of the most fascinating aspects of psychology is that human
development does not unfold in a gradual, smooth, linear fashion;
instead, periods of seeming stability are interrupted by sudden, often

dramatic growth and change. Whether we study physical, cognitive,
emotional, or social development, we find remarkable transitions from
one pattern of functioning to a qualitatively different one. You might
remember one of these dramatic periods of change from your early
adolescence. You most likely did more than just grow a couple of years
older. You probably emerged with a fundamentally different body, ways
of relating to parents and friends, and an ability to think more deeply
about complex, abstract problems. What you probably don’t remember is
going through other dramatic shifts in physical and psychological
functioning several times before you hit puberty. These periods of rapid
change are described by several stage models of human development.
These models emphasize the difference between stages—periods of
gradual growth spent fine-tuning new skills—and the periods of rapid
change between them.

Zygotes to Infants: From One Cell to
Billions
The earliest stage of development begins at the moment of conception,
when a single sperm (out of approximately 200 million that start the
journey into the vagina) is able to find its way into the ovum (egg cell). At
this moment, the ovum releases a chemical that bars any other sperm
from entering, and the nuclei of egg and sperm fuse, forming the zygote .
Out of the mysterious formation of this single cell, the rest of our lives
flow.
Fertilization and Gestation
The formation of the zygote through the fertilization of the ovum marks
the beginning of the germinal stage , the first phase of prenatal
development, which spans from conception to two weeks. Shortly after it
forms, the zygote begins dividing, first into two cells, then four, then
eight, and so on. The zygote also travels down the fallopian tubes toward
the uterus, where it becomes implanted into the lining of the uterus
(Table 10.1 ). The ball of cells, now called a blastocyst, splits into two
groups. The inner group of cells develops into the fetus. The outer group
of cells forms the placenta, which will pass oxygen, nutrients, and waste
to and from the fetus.
Table 10.1 Phases of Prenatal Development

Source: Dough Steley A/Alamy Stock Photo; MedicalRF.com/Alamy Stock Photo; Claude
Edelmann/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source
Although the terms embryo and fetus are very well known, surprisingly
few adults remember what distinguishes the two. Treating these as

development stages can highlight the differences. For starters, the
embryonic stage  spans weeks two through eight, during which time the
embryo begins developing major physical structures such as the heart and
nervous system, as well as the beginnings of arms, legs, hands, and feet.
Essentially, this is the stage in which the physical systems that define our
species emerge from a cluster of cells. Following this, the fetal stage 
spans week eight through birth, during which time the skeletal, organ, and
nervous systems become more developed and specialized. Muscles develop and
the fetus begins to move. Sleeping and waking cycles start and the senses
become fine-tuned—even to the point where the fetus is responsive to

external cues (these events are summarized in Table 10.1 ). So once the
body emerges in the embryonic stage, the fetal stage allow those
structures to grow and begin to function.

Fetal Brain Development
The beginnings of the human brain can be seen during the embryonic
stage when nerve cells first develop. Within two weeks of conception, a
layer of these specialized cells begins to fold over onto itself, forming a
distinct tube-shaped structure. This neural tube eventually develops into
the brain and spinal cord (Lenroot & Gledd, 2007; O’Rahilly & Mueller,
2008). The first signs of the major divisions of the brain—the forebrain,
the midbrain, and the hindbrain—are apparent at only four weeks (see
Figure 10.2 ). Around seven weeks, the spinal cord has developed
enough for the fetus’s limbs to move, which ushers in a stage of
strengthening and coordination (Kurjak et al., 2005). By 11 weeks,

structures recognized in adult brains have developed, including the
cerebral hemispheres, cerebellum, and brain stem. By the end of the
second trimester, the outer surface of the cerebral cortex has formed the
initial folds and ridges that give the adult brain its familiar appearance.
(Pregnancy is divided into three, 3-month periods called trimesters.) It is

around the same time that myelin begins to build up around developing
nerve cells, enabling them to conduct messages more rapidly and
efficiently (see Module 3.2 ; Giedd, 2008).
Figure 10.2 Fetal Brain Development

At birth, the newborn has an estimated 100 billion neurons and a brain
that is approximately 25% the size and weight of an adult brain.
Astonishingly, this means that by the time of birth, the infant has been
developing up to 4000 new neurons per second in the womb (Brown et al.,
2001). However, most of the connections between these neurons have
not yet been established in the brain of a newborn (Kolb, 1989, 1995).
Although the basic shape and structure of our brains is guided by the
human genome (see Module 3.1 ), the strength of the connections
between individual brain cells and the pathways between brain regions
depends on experience.
Nutrition, Teratogens, and Fetal
Development
The rapidly developing fetal brain is highly vulnerable to environmental
influences. For example, proper nutrition is the single most important
non-genetic factor affecting fetal development in typical environments

(assuming minimal exposure to toxic substances; Phillips, 2006). The
nutritional demands of a developing infant are such that women typically
require an almost 20% increase in energy intake during pregnancy,
including sufficient quantities of protein (which affects neurological
development; Morgane et al., 2002) and other nutrients (e.g. omega-3

fatty acids, folic acid, and calcium). In the fetal stage, malnutrition can
have severe consequences. (Children who were malnourished in the
womb are more likely to experience attention deficit disorders and
difficulties controlling their emotions, due to underdeveloped prefrontal
cortices and other brain areas involved in self-control (Morgane et al.,

2002; Vohr et al., 2017).).
Fetal development can also be disrupted through exposure to
teratogens , substances, such as drugs or environmental toxins, that impair
the process of development. One of the most infamous and heartbreaking
examples of teratogens is thalidomide, a sedative that was hailed as a
wonder drug for morning sickness during pregnancy. Available in Canada
from 1959 to 1962, thalidomide had serious, undesirable effects, causing
miscarriages and nervous system birth defects such as blindness and

deafness. Its most well-known effect, phocomelia, results from impaired
physical development;: the hands, feet, or both emerged directly from
their shoulders or hips.
Victims of thalidomide: This sedative seemed like a miracle drug in the

late 1950s, until its tragic effects on fetal development became apparent.
Dpa picture alliance/Alamy Stock Photo
Thalidomide is no longer a threat, but more common teratogens remain,
especially alcohol and tobacco. First described in the 1970s (Jones &
Smith, 1973), fetal alcohol spectrum disorders  consist of abnormalities
in mental functioning, growth, and physical development in the offspring of
women who use alcohol during pregnancy. This condition occurs in

approximately 1.5 per 1000 births worldwide, but the specific rates likely
vary greatly in different regions (Popova et al., 2017). It is likely that FAS
has been underreported (or has been misdiagnosed as something else),
and thus the effects of fetal alcohol exposure may be more widespread
than is currently recognized (Morleo et al., 2011).
About one in 10 pregnancies in Canada involve ingesting alcohol (Walker
et al., 2011), and in some communities, such as those in isolated Northern
regions, more than 60% of pregnancies have been shown to be alcohol-

exposed (Muckle et al., 2011). This statistic is particularly worrisome
when research suggests there is no safe limit for alcohol consumption by

a pregnant woman; even one drink per day may be enough to impair fetal
development (O’Leary et al., 2010; Streissguth & Connor, 2001). The

effects of alcohol on the developing fetus may also be affected by the
father’s drinking. A study using mice as a model suggests that paternal
alcohol use affects sperm, which in term has a negative impact on the
growth and development of mouse pups (Lee et al., 2013). Further
research is needed to confirm that the same effect happens in humans.

Fetal alcohol syndrome is diagnosed based on facial abnormalities,
growth problems, and behavioural and cognitive deficits.
Betty Udesen/KRT/Newscom
Smoking also exposes the developing fetus to teratogens. Babies born to

mothers who smoke are twice as likely to have low birth weight and have
a 30% chance of premature birth—both factors that increase the

newborn’s risk of illness or death. Evidence also suggests an increased
risk for problems with emotional development and impulse control (Brion
et al., 2010; Wiebe et al., 2014), as well as attentional and other
behavioural problems (Marroun et al., 2014; Sen & Swaminathan, 2007).
Finally, maternal stress activates genetic processes that can in turn

interfere with normal prenatal development (Cao-Lei et al., 2018). Every
expecting mother experiences some level of stress during pregnancy, and
these stressors can come from all aspects of life: relationships, finances,
community, and especially the psychological adjustment to having

another human being so dependent on her. As you can imagine,
differences in geographic location and financial resources correlate to
important factors such as better prenatal healthcare, nutrition, and stable
social environments. This is the case even in countries with strong

national health care systems (Guliani et al., 2013; Kim et al., 2018).
Regardless of socioeconomic factors, strong social support and effective
psychological coping skills are associated with positive fetal
developmental (Goeletzke et al., 2017).
Myths in Mind
The Myth of Vaccinations and Autism
When you consider all the ways people try to promote healthy
infant development, it is surprising that some parents actively

avoid one of the most scientifically established, effective, and
safest tools—vaccination. A major controversy erupted in the
late 1990s about a widely administered vaccine designed to
prevent measles, mumps, and rubella (MMR). A publication
from one British lab linked the MMR vaccine to the

development of autism, but the science was later discredited.
This was such clear and blatant violation of research and
medical ethics that the journal retracted the article, and the
key researcher (Andrew Wakefield) lost his licence to practise
medicine. Nonetheless, he continued to promote his views

against vaccines through public-speaking appearances and
rallies, and the anti-vaccine movement remained convinced
that vaccines were scarier than the diseases they prevented.
The net result has been a public health tragedy. For example, in
Canada, measles was considered to have been eliminated as
an endemic disease by 1997 and in the United States shortly
thereafter; any further cases would have to have been imported

from other areas of the world. The approximately 100 new
cases each year came across international borders, and were
easily dealt with because of near universal immunity in the
population. However, as the anti-vaccine movement continued

to spread conspiracies entirely at odds with decades of data
from laboratories, clinical practice, and public health, these
gains began to reverse. By 2011, more than 30 European
countries, plus Canada and the United States, saw huge spikes
in measles cases, with particularly worrying outbreaks
occurring in France, Québec, and numerous regions of the
United States (CDC, 2019; Sherrard et al., 2015).
The take-home message? There is no evidence that vaccines

cause autism. On the contrary, all the evidence suggests that
vaccines prevent far more problems than they might cause.

The Long-Term Effects of Premature Birth
The human mother’s womb has evolved to be a close-to-ideal

environment for a fetus’s delicate brain and body to prepare for
life outside the womb. Premature birth thrusts the vulnerable
baby into a much less congenial environment before they are
ready; how does this affect development?
What do we know about premature birth?

Typically, humans are born at a gestational age of around 40
weeks. Preterm infants  are born earlier than 36 weeks. Preterm
babies often have underdeveloped brains and lungs, which
present a host of immediate challenges, such as breathing on
their own and maintaining an appropriate body temperature.
With modern medical care, babies born at 30 weeks have a very
good chance of surviving (approximately 95%), although for
those born at 25 weeks, survival rates drop to only slightly above
50% (Dani et al., 2009; Jones et al., 2005). Although babies born
at less than 25 weeks often survive, they run a very high risk of
damage to the brain and other major organs. To try to reduce
these risks and improve outcomes as much as possible, medical
science is continually seeking better procedures for nurturing
preterm infants.
How can science be used to help preterm
infants?
Researchers have compared different methods for improving
survival and normal development in preterm infants. One
program, called the Newborn Individualized Developmental Care
and Assessment Program (NIDCAP), is a behaviourally based
intervention in which preterm infants are closely observed and
given intensive care during early development. To keep the
delicate brain protected against potentially harmful experiences,
NIDCAP calls for minimal lights, sound levels, and stress.
Controlled studies suggest that this program works (Moody et al.,
2017). Researchers randomly assigned 117 infants born at 29
weeks or less gestational age to receive either NIDCAP or
standard care in a prenatal intensive care unit. Within nine
months of birth, the infants who received the NIDCAP care

showed significantly improved motor skills, attention, and other
behavioural skills, as well as superior brain development
(McAnulty et al., 2009). A longitudinal study indicates that these
initial gains last for a long time. Even at eight years of age, those
who were born preterm and given NIDCAP treatment scored

higher on measures of reasoning and problem solving than
children who were born preterm but did not have NIDCAP
treatment (McAnulty et al., 2010). Researchers have also found

that skin-to-skin contact affects both the infant and the parent,
most likely by altering endocrine system activity (Vittner et al.,

2018).

The chief limitation of Moody et al.’s longitudinal study is its
small sample size (only 22 children across the two conditions) so

we must question its generalizability. Without a large, diverse
sample, we don’t know whether the effectiveness of the program
depends on the child’s gender, family socioeconomic status, or
ethnicity. This study also does not identify why the program
works—which specific mechanisms it affects in turn improve

development. These questions don’t nullify previous findings;
instead they have become promising directions for future

research.

Worldwide, an estimated 9% of infants are born preterm (Villar et
al., 2003). Medical advances have increased the likelihood of
survival of these children, and behaviourally based interventions

such as NIDCAP have improved physical and psychological
development. For example, massaging preterm infants for a mere

15 minutes per day can result in a 50% greater daily weight gain
(Field et al., 2006) and reduce stress-related behaviours

(Hernandez-Reif et al., 2007). Another intervention called
kangaroo care focuses on promoting skin-to-skin contact between

infants and caregivers, and encouraging breastfeeding. These
practices have been shown to improve the physical and
psychological health of preterm infants (Conde-Agudelo et al.,

2011), and are becoming widely adopted into mainstream
medical practice.
The fact that teratogens can influence the development of the
fetal brain—and in some cases lead to premature birth—has made

parents quite vigilant about these potential dangers. As you’ve
read in this section, these concerns are well-founded. However, it

is also important that parents examine the evidence for each
potential threat to see if it is credible. In Module 2.3 , we briefly

discussed Andrew Wakefield, a British researcher who fabricated
some of his data showing a link between vaccinations and

autism. In that module, we focused on the ethical violations that
he committed. The Myths in Mind box illustrates how this

researcher’s lapse in ethics has had a profound effect on the
health and safety of tens of thousands of innocent children.
Kangaroo care—skin-to-skin contact between babies and

caregivers—is now encouraged for promoting optimal infant
development.
Victoria Boland Photography/Flickr/Getty Images

Sensory and Motor Development in
Infancy
It is hard to fathom what the world of an infant must be like. As adults,
we depend heavily on our top-down processes (see Module 4.1 ) to help
us label, categorize, perceive, and make sense of the world, but infants
have developed very few top-down patterns by the time they are born.
Their brains are pretty close to being “blank slates,” and life must be, as
William James so aptly put it, a “blooming, buzzing confusion.”
However, babies aren’t quite as “blank” as we have historically assumed.
In fact, just before the eighth month of prenatal development, infants
seem to be listening and remembering sounds from outside the womb. In

one study, mothers read stories out loud, including The Cat in the Hat,
twice daily during the final six weeks of pregnancy. At birth, their babies
were given a pacifier that controlled a tape recording of their mother’s
voice reading different stories. Babies sucked the pacifier much more to
hear their mothers read The Cat in the Hat compared to hearing stories the
moms had not read to them in the womb (DeCasper & Spence, 1986).
Interestingly, newborns also show a preference for their mother’s voice.
For example, a study involving researchers at Queen’s University showed
that babies responded positively when they heard poems read by their
mother, but not when the poems were read by a stranger (Kisilevsky et
al., 2003). (Unfortunately for fathers, babies up to at least four months old
don’t prefer their dad’s voice over other men’s [DeCasper & Prescott,
1984; Ward & Cooper, 1999].) Perhaps the most remarkable finding is
that in the last month or so of pregnancy, infants start to pick up the
speech sounds of their mother’s language. In fact, a study of infants born
to French or German parents discovered that babies actually cry with an
accent. The cries of French babies rose in intensity toward the end of
their cry while German babies started at high intensity and then trailed
off. This difference was apparent at only a few days of age (Mampe et al.,
2009). So, babies are actively learning about their cultural environment
even while in the womb.
The visual system is not as well developed at birth, however. Enthusiastic

family members may like to make goofy faces at a newborn baby, but the
child isn’t able to enjoy it nearly so much; newborns have only about
1/40th of the visual acuity of adults (Sireteanu, 1999), and can only see
about as far away as is necessary to see their mother’s face while
breastfeeding (about 30 cm or less). It takes six months or more before
they reach 20/20 visual acuity and it takes a full eight months before
infants can perceive shapes and objects about as well as adults (Csibra et
al., 2000; Fantz, 1961). Nevertheless, even newborns are highly
responsive to visual cues if they’re close enough to see them. They will
track moving objects and will stare intently at objects they haven’t seen
before, although after a while they habituate to an object and lose interest
in looking at it (Slater et al., 1988). Babies’ visual responses to the world
illustrate a major theme within psychology, which is that humans are

fundamentally social creatures. Newborns prefer to look at stimuli that
look like faces, compared to stimuli that have all the same features but are
scrambled so that they don’t look like faces (see Figure 10.3 ).
Figure 10.3 Experimental Stimuli for Studying Visual Habituation in Infants

Infants were shown three types of stimuli: a face-like stimulus, a
scrambled face stimulus, and a neutral stimulus.
Although being exposed to a complex world is essential for the
development of the human visual system, interacting with this world is

also necessary for the visual system to properly develop. This concept
was illustrated by research involving the ingenious device shown in

Figure 10.4 —the visual cliff. Originally, researchers in 1960 (Gibson &
Walk, 1960) found that infants were reluctant to crawl over the deep side,
seeming to understand depth and danger right from birth. However,
researchers eventually discovered that only babies who had some

experience crawling showed fear of the deep end (Campos et al., 1992).
Figure 10.4 The Visual Cliff

Developmental psychologists use a visual cliff (not a real one!) to test for
the development of depth perception in babies. The baby shown here has
not yet acquired the perceptual experience of depth.
Mark Richard/PhotoEdit, Inc.
In contrast to vision, the taste and olfactory systems are relatively well
developed at birth. Similar to adults, newborns cringe when they smell
something rotten or pungent (such as ammonia), and they show a strong
preference for the taste of sweets. Odours are strong memory cues for
infants as well. For example, infants can learn that a toy will work in the
presence of one odour but not others, and they can retain this memory
over several days (Schroers et al., 2007). Newborn infants can also smell
the difference between their mother’s breastmilk and that of a stranger.
Infants even turn their heads toward the scent of breastmilk, which helps
to initiate nursing (Porter & Winberg, 1999).
Motor Development in the First Year
The beginnings of a functioning motor system are detectable a mere five
months after conception when the fetus begins to make voluntary motor
movements. In the last months of gestation, the muscles and nervous
system are developed enough to demonstrate basic reflexes —
involuntary muscular reactions to specific types of stimulation. These reflexes

provide newborns and infants with the basic movements required for
feeding and interacting with caregivers (see Table 10.2  for a partial list
of important infant reflexes). Notice that these reflexes are highly
functional; they evolved because they help the infant survive from day
one, and they often begin the motor learning process that leads to the
development of more complex motor skills. As the motor processes
involved in these reflexes become integrated into the child’s nervous
system, the infant begins to gain voluntary control. That’s why many of
the reflexes fade away in the first six or seven months. In fact, if these
reflexes persist longer than that, this may indicate neural issues that
interfere with developing motor control (Volpe, 2008).
Table 10.2 A Few Key Infant Reflexes

Over the first 12 to 18 months after birth, infants’ motor abilities progress
through fairly reliable stages—from crawling, to standing, to walking (see

Figure 10.5 ). Although the majority of infants develop this way, there is
still some variability; for example, some infants largely bypass the
crawling stage, developing a kind of bum-sliding movement instead, and
then proceed directly to standing and walking. In contrast to reflexes, the

development of motor skills seems to rely more on practice and
deliberate effort, which in turn is related to environmental influences,

such as cultural practices. For example, Jamaican mothers typically expect
their babies to walk earlier than British or Indian mothers, and sure
enough, Jamaican babies do walk earlier, likely because they are given
more encouragement and opportunities to learn (Hopkins & Westra,

1989; Zelazo et al., 1993).
Figure 10.5 Motor Skills Develop in Stages
This series shows infants in different stages of development: (a) raising

the head, (b) rolling over, (c) propping up, (d) sitting up, (e) crawling,
and (f) walking.
Top, left: bendao/Shutterstock; top, right: Bubbles Photolibrary/Alamy Stock Photo; bottom, left:
imageBROKER/Glow Images; bottom, centre left: OLJ Studio/Shutterstock; bottom, centre right:
Corbis Bridge/Alamy Stock Photo; bottom, right: Eric Gevaert/Shutterstock
Development within the Central Nervous
System
Although all the major brain structures are present at birth, they continue
developing right into adulthood. The myelination of axons (see Module
3.2 ), which began prenatally, accelerates through infancy and

childhood, and then continues gradually for many years. Myelination of
sensorimotor systems allows for the emergence of fine-tuned, voluntary
motor control so that by 12 months of age, the infant has the abilities to
pick up small and delicate objects, stand and balance, and even begin
walking.
Two other neural processes, synaptogenesis and synaptic pruning, further
help to coordinate the functioning of the developing brain.
Synaptogenesis  describes the forming of new synaptic connections, which
occurs at blinding speed through infancy and childhood and continues

through the lifespan. Synaptic pruning , the loss of weak nerve cell
connections, accelerates during brain development through infancy and
childhood (Figure 10.6 ), then tapers off until adolescence (see Module
10.3 ). Synaptogenesis and synaptic pruning serve to increase neural
efficiency by strengthening needed connections between nerve cells and
weeding out unnecessary ones.
Figure 10.6 The Processes of Synaptic Pruning

In summary, the journey from zygote to you begins dramatically, with
biological pathways being formed at a breakneck pace both prenatally
and after birth, giving rise to sensory and motor abilities that allow
infants to become competent perceivers and actors in the external world.
Most motor abilities require substantial time for infants to learn to
coordinate the many different muscles involved, which depends heavily

on infants’ interactions with the environment. From the very beginnings
of our lives, nature and nurture are inextricably intertwined.

Module 10.1 Summary
10.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to prenatal and

infant physical development.
Review Module 10.1
10.1b Understand . . . the pros and cons of different research

designs in developmental psychology.
Cross-sectional designs, in which a researcher studies a sample of people
at one time, have the advantage of being faster, and generally cheaper,
allowing research to be completed quickly; however, they may suffer
from cohort effects because people of different ages in the sample are also
from somewhat different historical time periods and, thus, any differences
between them could reflect a historical process and not a developmental
one. Longitudinal designs, in which a researcher follows a sample of
people over a span of time, have the advantage of being able to track
changes in the same people, thus giving more direct insight into
developmental processes. However, such studies take longer to complete,

thus slowing down the research process, and they can suffer from
attrition, in which people drop out of the study over time.
10.1c Apply . . . your understanding to identify the best ways

expectant parents can ensure the health of their developing fetus.
The key to healthy fetal development is ensuring a chemically ideal
environment. The most important factors are adequate nutrition and
avoiding teratogens. Best nutritional practices include approximately a

20% increase in the mother’s caloric intake, additional protein, and
ensuring sufficient quantities of essential nutrients (which usually

involves taking nutritional supplements). Avoiding teratogens involves
giving up smoking and drinking alcohol, and getting good medical advice
concerning any medications that the expectant mother may be taking.
10.1d Analyze . . . the effects of preterm birth.
Health risks increase considerably with very premature births (e.g., those
occurring at just 25 weeks’ gestation). Use of proper caregiving
procedures, especially personalized care that emphasizes mother–infant

contact, breastfeeding, and minimal sensory stimulation for the
underdeveloped brain, increases the chances that preterm infants will
remain healthy.
Module 10.2 Infancy and Childhood:
Cognitive and Emotional
Development
Ulza/Shutterstock
10.2a Know . . . the terminology associated with infancy and
childhood.
10.2b Understand . . . the cognitive changes that occur during infancy
and childhood.
10.2c Understand . . . the importance of attachment and the different
styles of attachment.
10.2d Apply . . . the concept of scaffolding and the zone of proximal
development to understand how to best promote learning.
10.2e Analyze . . . how to effectively discipline children in order to
promote moral behaviour.
What do tigers, helicopters, and snowplows have in common? Each
describes how parents behave toward their children. These are not
scientific terms, we should note, but instead they identify societal trends
and views of parenting. The simple transformation of the noun parent
into the verb parenting is emblematic of an ever-growing trend to
categorize (and, yes, judge) the way that parents raise their children.
For example, tiger parents impose strict rules and regimented schedules,
and emphasize achievement in their children (think about a five-year

old whose father has him drilling harder than an NHLer knowing he
will one day play wing for the Oilers). Helicopter parents hover—
sometimes literally—over their children to protect them from harm and
to solve their problems. This could be the mother who essentially takes
over her daughter’s science fair project, bringing all kinds of electronics
and robotics home from her engineering firm. Snowplows, on the other
hand, simply remove any possible challenges and barriers to their
child’s success. These parents may have made dozens of phone calls and
visits to their children’s summer camp before it started, leaving special
instructions and placing demands on the counsellors for the
appropriate way to treat their little angels. These three parenting types
do share a common theme: most parents simply want to do well by their
children. But with so many approaches to parenting, we have to

wonder how parents’ choices and behaviour influence the child’s social,
emotional, and cognitive development.
The transition from baby to toddler is one of the most biologically and
behaviourally dramatic times in a person’s life. Within a few years, we
grow from highly incapable, drooling babies to highly coordinated and

capable children. The physical, cognitive, and social transitions that occur
between infancy and childhood are remarkably ordered, yet are also
influenced by individual genetic and sociocultural factors. In this module,
we integrate some important stage perspectives to explain psychological

development through childhood.
One key insight to emerge from several lines of research is that for many
systems, certain periods of development seem to be exceptionally

important for long-term functioning. A sensitive period  is a window of
time during which exposure to a specific type of environmental stimulation is
needed for normal development of a specific ability. For example, to become

fluent in language, infants need to be exposed to speech during their first
few years of life. Long-term deficits can emerge if the needed stimulation,
such as language, is missing during a sensitive period. Sensitive periods
of development are a widespread phenomenon. They have been found in

humans and other species for abilities such as depth perception, balance,
recognition of parents, and, in humans at least, identifying with a

particular culture (Cheung et al., 2011). However, although sensitive
periods can explain the emergence of many perceptual (and some

cognitive) abilities, they are only one of many mechanisms underlying
human development.
Over the past century, many psychologists have attempted to explain how
children’s mental abilities develop and expand. One of the most

influential figures in this search was a Swiss psychologist named Jean
Piaget (1896–1980).
Cognitive Changes: Piaget’s Cognitive
Development Theory
Jean Piaget developed many of his theories in an unorthodox manner: he
studied his own family. However, this research was not done in a casual
manner. Piaget actively studied, made copious notes of his observations,
and even ran specific tests and measurements on his own children as they
were growing up. The theories that resulted from this extensive personal
project laid much of the groundwork for the modern science of cognitive
development —the study of changes in memory, thought, and reasoning
processes that occur throughout the lifespan. In his own work, Piaget focused
on cognitive development from infancy through early adolescence.
Piaget’s central interest was in explaining how children learn to think and
reason. According to Piaget, learning involves two central processes,
which he named assimilation and accommodation. Assimilation  is
fitting new information into the belief system you already possess. For
example, young children may think that all girls have long hair and, as
they encounter more examples of this pattern, they will assimilate them
into their current understanding. Of course, eventually they will run into
girls with short hair or boys with long hair, and their beliefs will be
challenged by this information. They may, at first, misunderstand,
assuming a short-haired girl is actually a boy and a long-haired boy is
actually a girl. But over time they will learn that their rigid categories of
long-haired girl and short-haired boy need to be altered. This change is
called accommodation , a creative process whereby people modify their belief

structures based on experience. Our belief systems help us make sense of
the world and acquire new facts and examples of what we already know
(assimilation). However, as we encounter information that challenges our
beliefs, we struggle to assimilate it. Therefore, we may need to develop a
more complex understanding of the world (accommodation).
Based on his observations of his children, Piaget concluded that there was
more to cognitive development than just repeated assimilation and
accommodation. Instead, he proposed that children pass through four
distinct stages from birth through early adolescence: the sensorimotor,

preoperational, concrete operational, and formal operational stages.
Within a stage, the child may continue assimilating and accommodating
new facts and observations. Passing from one stage into the next occurs
when the child achieves the important developmental milestone of that
stage, and can now think in a fundamentally different way (see Table
10.3 ). As you will see, the most profound examples of these major
developmental changes come early in life, although abilities can continue
to develop into adulthood.
Table 10.3 Piaget’s Stages of Cognitive Development

The Sensorimotor Stage: Living in the
Material World
The earliest period of cognitive development is known as the
sensorimotor stage ; this stage spans from birth to two years, during which
infants’ thinking about and exploration of the world are based on immediate
sensory (e.g., seeing, feeling) and motor (e.g., grabbing, mouthing) experiences.
During this time, infants are completely immersed in the present
moment, responding exclusively to direct sensory input. For an infant in
this stage, as soon as an object is out of sight and out of reach, it will
cease to exist.
This is obviously not how the world works. Thus, the first major
milestone of cognitive development proposed by Piaget is object
permanence , the ability to understand that objects exist even when they
cannot be directly perceived. To test for object permanence, Piaget would

allow an infant to reach for a toy, and then place a screen or a barrier
between the infant and the toy so that the toy was no longer visible to the
infant. If the reaching or looking stopped, it would suggest that the infant
did not have a mental representation of the object when it was not
visible, thus indicating that the infant had not yet developed object
permanence. But for the child that has developed object permanence,
think how different the world has just become. The ability to represent
objects in memory is one of the foundations of being able to think about
the past or what might be in the future.

Object permanence is tested by examining reactions that infants have to
objects when they cannot be seen. Children who have object permanence
will attempt to reach around the barrier or will continue looking in the
direction of the desired object.
Doug Goodman/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source

The Preoperational Stage: Quantity and
Numbers
According to Piaget, once children have mastered sensorimotor tasks,
they have progressed to the preoperational stage  , which spans ages two
to seven and is devoted to language development, the use of symbols, pretend

play, and mastering the concept of conservation (to be discussed next).
During this stage, children can think about physical objects, although
they have not quite attained abstract thinking abilities. They may count
objects and use numbers, yet they cannot mentally manipulate
information or see things from other points of view.
This inability to manipulate abstract information is shown by testing a
child’s understanding of conservation , the knowledge that the quantity or
amount of an object is not the same as the physical arrangement and
appearance of that object. Conservation can be tested in a number of ways

(see Figure 10.7 ). For example, in a conservation of liquid task, a child is
shown two identical glasses, each containing the same amount of liquid.
The researcher then pours the liquid from one glass into a differently
shaped container, typically one that is taller and narrower. Although the
amount of liquid is still the same to an adult, many children believe that
the tall, thin glass contains more fluid because it looks “bigger.” It appears
that the concept and word mor means size to the child, but numbered
units of volume or weight to an adult. You can see this same principle at
work in the conservation of number task (see the two rows of coins in
Figure 10.7 ).
Figure 10.7 Testing Conservation
Inquiry to Understanding, 2nd Ed., 2011. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of
Tests of conservation demonstrate the limits of children’s cognitive

abilities. However, continuing research has shown that in some cases,
these limitations are more a matter of the child’s interpretation of an

activity or the abstract, trivial nature of the task (see the Working the
Scientific Literacy Model  feature). For example, three-year-old children

seem to misinterpret the concept of “how many” to mean “how long” in
the coin task (Figure 10.7 ). But replace those pennies with M&Ms, and
suddenly the context is much more interesting. If you put more M&Ms
tightly packed together so they take up less space than a line of M&Ms
that is more spread out, children will pick the more tightly packed but
“smaller” row, understanding that it contains more candy—especially if
they get to eat the candy from the row they choose (Mehler & Bever,
1967).
Another challenge aspect of quantity and size can be revealed in studies
of scale errors in which children struggle to match shapes and sizes in

abstract thought (DeLoache et al., 2004). In Figure 10.8 , for example,
you can see how a child interacts with a toy car as if it were a real life-
sized vehicle. He can identify it as a car, but fails to realize that he is too
big to take it for a spin until he actual tries it. By two to two-and-a-half
years of age, scale errors decline as children begin to understand

properties of objects and how they are related. For example, in Figure
10.8c , a child is able to understand that researchers have duplicated a

room—it’s just that one is a doll house and the other is human-sized. By
realizing the difference is just a matter of scale, the child is able to

transfer knowledge from one version of the room to another.
Figure 10.8 Scale Errors and Testing for Scale Model Comprehension
The children in photos (a) and (b) are making scale errors. One child is
attempting to slide down a toy slide and another is attempting to enter a
toy car. Three-year-olds understand that a scale model represents an
actual room (c). The adult pictured is using a scale model to indicate the
location of a hidden object in an actual room of this type. At around three
years of age, children understand that the scale model symbolizes an
actual room and will go directly to the hidden object after viewing the
scale model.
Courtesy of Judy DeLoache

The Concrete Operational Stage: Using
Logical Thought
Having developed the preliminary abilities of abstract representation
(object permanence), quantity (conservation), and scale, children are
prepared to solve increasingly complex problems at around age seven. In

the concrete operational stage  (ages seven to 11 years), children develop
skills in logical thinking and manipulating numbers. Their thinking becomes
increasingly logical and organized. For example, a child in the concrete
operational stage can handle a concept known as the transitivity property,
If I have more M&Ms than my brother
But my sister has even more M&Ms than me
Then my sister also has more M&Ms than my brother
Using a specific example of M&Ms, the concrete operational child is

usually able to solve these problems. However, the “concreteness” of this
stage means that it is still important to have real, physical problems (and
real M&Ms in this case) rather than abstract meanings. It’s not that the
M&Ms must be present for all 10-year-olds to understand transitivity—
although it certainly is important early on in concrete operations. The
important thing later in the stage is that the M&Ms are tangible objects
that anyone with object permanence can easily imagine, even if they are
not present. On the other hand, there are plenty of adults beyond this
stage who still get tripped up when encountering completely abstract

versions of the exact same transitivity scenario as above, but in
completely abstract terms: X is more than B, and L is less than B, then
clearly X is more than L. This ability to apply logical operations (such as
comparisons) about physical objects sets the stage for reasoning
abstractly in the fourth and final stage of cognitive development.

The Formal Operational Stage: Abstract and
Hypothetical Thought
The formal operational stage  (ages 11 to adulthood) involves the
development of advanced cognitive processes such as abstract reasoning and
hypothetical thinking. In this stage, adolescents and adults are able to

reason about abstract things, including solving transitivity problems with
abstract variables. In fact, this stage is when many North American
students get their first exposure to pre-algebra courses. Algebra is a great
example of abstract reasoning. Scientific thinking, such as gathering
evidence and systematically testing possibilities, is also characteristic of

this stage. To generate hypotheses, for example, you must be able to
imagine a hypothetical scenario in which you could be proven wrong (see
falsifiability in Module 2.1 ). One difficulty in that is that a scientist must
be willing to accept statements they do not believe are true. Imagine the
following exchange between a psychologist and a child.
If this feather hits glass, the glass will break.
If this feather hits a window, what will happen?
In the formal operational stage, the young adolescent would not believe
the first statement. However, if told to accept it as true, they could say
that the feather would actually break the glass. That would be the logical
consequence if the first statement was, in fact, true. In the concrete
operational stage, children cannot complete the logic operation that runs
counter to their own experiences and beliefs. Substitute a hammer for the
feather, however, and a the same child will have no trouble coming up
with the correct answer.
Piaget’s theories have had a lasting impact on modern developmental
psychology. In addition to providing insights into the minds of young
children, Piaget’s work inspired numerous other researchers to study
cognitive development. Many of these new discoveries complement,
rather than entirely contradict, Piaget’s foundational work.

Evaluating Piaget
Piaget was immensely successful in opening our eyes to the
cognitive development of infants and children. Nevertheless,

advances in testing methods have shown that he may have
underestimated some aspects of infant cognitive abilities. In fact,
infants appear to understand some basic principles of their
physical and social worlds very shortly after birth.
What do we know about cognitive abilities in

infants?
The core knowledge hypothesis  proposes that infants have
inborn abilities for understanding some key aspects of their
environment (Spelke & Kinzler, 2007). It is a bold claim to say

that babies know something about the world before they have
even experienced it, so we should closely examine the evidence
for this hypothesis.
How can we know what infants know or what they perceive?
Piaget developed tasks requiring behavioural responses that
indicated comprehension, or lack thereof, of capacities such as
object permanence. However, infants have a very limited
behavioural repertoire. The habituation–dishabituation response

has opened up many opportunities to study infant cognitive
abilities. Habituation  refers to a decrease in responding with

repeated exposure to an event. For example, if an infant is shown
the same stimulus over and over, they will stop looking at it.
Conversely, infants are quite responsive to novelty or changes in
their environment. Thus, if the stimulus suddenly changes, the
infant will display dishabituation , an increase in responsiveness
with the presentation of a new stimulus. In other words, the infant
will return their gaze to the location that they previously found
boring. Research on habituation and dishabituation in infants led
to the development of measurement techniques based on what
infants will look at and for how long. These techniques now
allow researchers to test infants even younger than Piaget was
able to.
A popular method for testing infant cognitive abilities is to

measure the amount of time infants look at stimuli. Researchers
measure habituation and dishabituation to infer what infants
understand.
Lawrence Migdale/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source
How can science help explain infant cognitive

abilities?
Measurement techniques based on what infants look at have
been used to measure whether infants understand many different
concepts, including abstract numbers—an ability that most people

imagine appears much later in development. For example,
Elizabeth Spelke and colleagues conducted a study in which 16
infants just two days old were shown sets of either 4 or 12

identical small shapes (e.g., yellow triangles, purple circles) on a
video screen. The researchers also made a sound 4 or 12 times

(e.g., tu-tu-tu-tu or ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra) at the same
time they showed the shapes (see Figure 10.9 ). Researchers
varied whether the number of shapes the infants saw matched
the number of tones they heard (e.g., 4 yellow triangles and 4 “ra”
tones) or not (e.g., 4 purple circles and 12 “ra” tones). The infants
were most attentive when what they saw and heard matched. In
other words, they looked longer at the shapes when the number
of shapes matched the number of sounds, compared to when
they did not match; this result is taken as evidence that even very
young infants have a rudimentary appreciation for abstract
numbers (Izard et al., 2009).
Figure 10.9 Testing Infants’ Understanding of Quantity

In this study, infants listened to tones that were repeated either 4
or 12 times while they looked at objects that had either 4 or 12
components. Infants spent more time looking at visual arrays
when the number of items they saw matched the number of
tones they heard.
Source: Figure 1 from Izard, V., Sann, C., Spelke, E. S., & Streri, A. (2009). Newborn
infants perceive abstract numbers. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 106,
10382–10385. Copyright © 2009. Reprinted by permission of PNAS.

Many of the studies of early cognitive development discussed in
this module used the “looking time” procedure, although not all
psychologists agree that it is an ideal way of determining what

infants understand or perceive (Aslin, 2007; Rivera et al., 1999).
We cannot know exactly what infants are thinking, and perhaps
they look longer at events and stimuli simply because these are
more interesting rather than because they understand anything in

particular about them. Inferring mental states that participants
cannot themselves validate certainly leaves room for alternative
explanations.
Also, the sample sizes in these studies are often fairly small, due
to the cost and complexity of researching infants. In the study of
shapes and tones just described, only 16 infants managed to

complete the study. Forty-five others were too fussy or sleepy to
successfully finish the task.

The key insight provided by this research is that cognitive
development in young infants is much more sophisticated than
psychologists previously assumed. With each study that examines
the cognitive capacities of infants, we learn that infants are not

just drooling blobs of flesh that need to be fed and diapered—
though it certainly can feel that way when you are a new parent.
Now we are learning that infants can understand more than we
might expect, and can reason in more complex ways than we had
believed.
One thing that parents and caregivers can learn from this
research is to see their children as complex learners who use

sensation and movement to develop their emerging cognitive
abilities. Caregivers can encourage this process by talking to
them using diverse vocabulary, exploring rhythm and music,
allowing them to feel different objects, and exposing them to
different textures and sensations.
Watch Habituation
Complementary Approaches to Piaget
In the many decades since Piaget’s work, psychologists have explored
how children’s social contexts affect their cognitive development. For
example, in a learning context, other people can support and facilitate
children’s learning, or can make it more difficult. Children who try to
master a skill by themselves may run into obstacles that would be easier
to overcome with a little assistance or guidance from another person, or
they may give up on a task when a little encouragement could have given
them the boost needed to persevere and succeed. At the opposite
extreme, children who have everything done for them and who are not
allowed to work through problems themselves may become relatively

incapable of finding solutions on their own, and may not develop feelings
of competence that support striving for goals and overcoming challenges.
Therefore, optimal development occurs somewhere between the
extremes of children doing everything on their own without any support,
and having others over-involved in their activities.
Russian psychologist Lev Vygotsky (1978) proposed that development is
ideal when children attempt skills and activities that are just beyond what they
can do alone, but they have guidance from adults who are attentive to their
progress; this concept is termed the zone of proximal development 
(Singer & Goldin-Meadow, 2005). Teaching in order to keep children in
the zone of proximal development is called scaffolding , a highly
attentive approach to teaching in which the teacher matches guidance to the
learner’s needs.
Cross-cultural research on parent–infant interactions shows that
scaffolding is exercised in different ways (Rogoff et al., 1993). For
example, in one study, 12- to 24-month-old children were offered a toy
that required pulling a string to make it move. Parents from Turkey,
Guatemala, and the United States were observed interacting with their
infants as they attempted to figure out how the toy worked. All parents
used scaffolding when they spoke and gestured to their children to
encourage them to pull the string, but mother–child pairs from
Guatemala were much more communicative with each other, both
verbally and through gestures such as touching and using the direction of
their gaze to encourage the behaviour. Over time, this kind of sensitive
scaffolding should result in children who are more seamlessly integrated
into the daily life of the family and community, rather than merely
relegated to “play” activities in specialized “kid-friendly” environments.
This means that children who are appropriately scaffolded are able to be
useful and self-sufficient at much earlier ages than is usual in
contemporary North American society.
Caregivers who are attentive to the learning and abilities of a developing

child provide scaffolding for cognitive development.
Nolte Lourens/Shutterstock
#Psych
Screen Time
Screen time, the amount of time spent with eyes locked on any
type of digital screen (phone, tablet, computer, television), is a

relatively new phrase and is also a well-known source of any
combination of shame, relief, frustration, and worry for many

parents. An exhausted parent allowing their two-year-old to flip
through selfies while waiting at the pediatrician’s office will

likely draw scorn from other parents (and possibly their
pediatrician). Is this two-year-old “digital native” destined to

become glued to a screen for life, unable to explore the outside
world or have a face-to-face interaction with another human
being? This is of course the fear that many parents have.

Unfortunately, there are no definitive scientific answers as to
whether screen time has any long-term negative effects on

brain and cognitive development. However, we can consider
potential risks (and benefits). Perhaps the greatest risk is that

the time spent on the screen is simply lost opportunity.
Generally speaking, digital media do not offer learning

opportunities that infants and toddlers can adequately absorb,
especially the type of scaffolding described earlier. From that

perspective, screens are definitely inferior to direct face-to-
face interaction with another person (Canadian Paediatric
Society, 2017; Radesky et al., 2015). Screens are also habit

forming, which can be observed from a very early age (just
watch Dad or Mom as they pry their phone from their little
one’s hands). On the other hand, well-designed educational
apps can be of high educational value if they are designed well
and used with the right age groups. The best ones are those
that promote active, engaged, meaningful, and socially
interactive learning opportunities (Hirsh-Pasek et al., 2015).

Given the ubiquity of screens, concerns about their potential
effects on social and cognitive development won’t go away any
time soon.
Social Development, Attachment, and
Self-Awareness
Infants are profoundly dependent on their caregivers for pretty much
everything, from food to relief from dirty diapers. Human contact is also
critical during infancy; being touched and held, seeing facial expressions,
and hearing familiar voices are all important, not just for helping infants
to feel secure but also to thrive physically and psychologically. In the mid-
20th century, such claims were seen as unscientific. We now know,
however, that early relationships can affect the developing child in ways
that last for the rest of their lives.
Understanding the intense social bonding that occurs between humans

revolves around the central concept of attachment , the enduring
emotional bond formed between individuals, initially between infants and
caregivers. Attachment motivations are deeply rooted in our psychology,
compelling us to seek out others for physical and psychological comfort,
particularly when we feel stressed or insecure (Bowlby, 1951). Infants
draw upon a remarkable repertoire of behaviours that are geared toward

seeking attachment, such as crying, cooing, gurgling, and smiling, and
adults are generally responsive to these rudimentary but effective
communications.
What Is Attachment?
In the early decades of modern psychology, dominant theories of
motivation emphasized biological drives, such as hunger and thirst, that
motivated people to satisfy their basic needs. From this perspective, the
motivation that drove infants to connect with caregivers, like their
mother, was simple; their mother fed them, reducing their hunger, and
thus, they developed a behavioural interdependence with their mother,
and through basic conditioning processes (i.e., associating their mother
with the pleasure and comfort of food), formed an emotional attachment
with their mother as well. Such a description of love is never going to fill
a book of poetry, but it seemed to scientifically and objectively account

for the infant–caregiver bond.
However, in the 1950s, a psychologist named Harry Harlow made an
extremely interesting observation, although one so seemingly innocuous
that most of us likely would have overlooked it. Harlow was conducting
research on infant rhesus monkeys, and was raising these monkeys in
cages without any contact with their mothers. In the course of this
research, he noticed that the baby monkeys seemed to cling passionately
to the cloth pads that lined their cages, and they would become very
distressed when these pads were removed for cleaning. This simple
observation made Harlow start to wonder what function the pads served
for the monkeys. The monkeys didn’t eat the pads, obviously, so why
should they be so attached to them?

A baby monkey clings to a cloth-covered object—Harlow called this
object the cloth mother—even though in this case the wire “mother”
provided food.
Nina Leen/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images
Harlow designed an ingenious set of studies, testing whether it was

physical comfort or primary drive reduction that drove the formation of
attachment. He placed rhesus monkeys in cages, right from birth, and
gave them two pseudo-mothers: one was a cylinder of mesh wire

wrapped with soft terry-cloth, loosely resembling an adult monkey; the
other was an identical cylinder but without the cloth covering. To then
test whether reducing the monkeys’ hunger was important for the
formation of attachment, Harlow simply varied which of the “mothers”

was the food source. For some monkeys, the wire mother had a bottle
affixed to it and thus was the infant’s food source, whereas for other
monkeys, the bottle was affixed to the cloth mother. The question was,
who would the monkeys bond with? Did their emotional attachment
actually depend on which of the “mothers” fed them?
The contest between mothers wasn’t even close. No matter who had the
bottle, the baby monkeys spent almost all their time with the cloth
mother, pretty much ignoring the wire mother except for the small
amount of time they spent actually feeding, when she had the bottle (see
Figure 10.10 ). Furthermore, the monkeys seemed emotionally attached
to the cloth mother, depending on her to meet their emotional needs. For
example, researchers devised experiments in which the baby monkeys
would be frightened (e.g., surprising them with a metallic contraption

that looked like a vicious monster), and they would watch which mother
the infants would run to for comfort and security. Over and over again,
they ran to the cloth mother. The implications were clear—attachment is
not about reducing fundamental biological drives; it’s about feeling

secure, which has a strong basis in feeling physically comforted.
Furthermore, if the process of attachment is a traumatic one, such as in
the case of parent-infant abuse, long-term maladaptive changes in the

brain circuitry supporting emotional responding and regulation occur
(Opendak et al., 2017).
Figure 10.10 Harlow’s Monkeys: Time Spent on Wire and Cloth Mother Surrogates
Source: Harlow, H. F. (1958). The nature of love. American Psychologist, 13(12), 673–685. From the
American Psychological Association.
Types of Attachment
Obviously, it would be unethical to raise human babies in cages with fake
mothers and frightening noises. Therefore, psychologists employ
methods of studying infant attachment that are only mildly stressful and
mimic natural situations such as stranger anxiety—signs of distress that
infants begin to show toward strangers at about eight months of age. One
such method, developed by Mary Ainsworth (1978), is known as strange
situation test , a way of measuring infant attachment by observing how
infants behave when exposed to different experiences that involve anxiety and
comfort. The procedure involves a sequence of scripted experiences that
expose children to mild anxiety (e.g., the presence of a stranger, being left
alone with the stranger), and the potential to receive some comfort from
their caregiver. For example, the child and caregiver spend a few minutes
in a room with some toys; a stranger enters, the caregiver leaves, and
then the caregiver returns. In each segment of the procedure, the child’s
behaviour is carefully observed. Ainsworth noted three broad patterns of

behaviour that she believed reflected three attachment styles (see Figure
10.11 ):
Figure 10.11 The Strange Situation

Studies of attachment by Mary Ainsworth involved a mother leaving her
infant with a stranger. Ainsworth believed that the infants’ attachment
styles could be categorized according to their behavioural responses to
the mother leaving and returning.
1. Secure attachment. The caregiver is a secure base that the child

turns toward occasionally, “checking in” for reassurance as they
explore the room. The child shows some distress when the
caregiver leaves, and avoids the stranger. When the caregiver
returns, the child seeks comfort and their distress is relieved.

2. Insecure attachment. Two subtypes were distinguished:
Anxious/Ambivalent. The caregiver is a base of security, but
the child depends too strongly on the caregiver, exhibiting

“clingy” behaviours rather than being comfortable exploring
the room on his own. The child is very upset when the
caregiver leaves, and is quite fearful toward the stranger.

When the caregiver returns, the child seeks comfort, but then
also resists it and pushes the caregiver away, not allowing

their distress to be easily alleviated.
Avoidant. The child behaves as though they do not need the

caregiver at all, and plays in the room as though oblivious to
the caregiver. The child is not upset when the caregiver
leaves, and is unconcerned about the stranger. When the

caregiver returns, the child does not seek contact.
3. Subsequent research identified a fourth attachment style,

disorganized (Main & Solomon, 1990), which is best characterized
by instability; the child has learned (typically through

inconsistent and often abusive experiences) that caregivers are
sources of both fear and comfort. The child experiences a strong

ambivalence, and reinforces this through inconsistent behaviour,
seeking closeness and then pulling away, or often simply

“freezing,” paralyzed with indecision.
Attachment is important throughout one’s life. The specific patterns of

behaviour that characterize different attachment styles can even be seen,
albeit in somewhat more complex forms, in adult relationships (Hazan &

Shaver, 1987; Mikulincer & Shaver, 2007). Attachment styles predict
many different relationship behaviours, including how we form and

dissolve relationships, specific issues and insecurities that arise in
relationships, and likely patterns of communication and conflict. For

example, in one large, longitudinal study spanning more than 20 years,
people who were securely attached as infants were better able to recover
from interpersonal conflict with their romantic partners (Salvatore et al.,
2011). It appears that the father described at the beginning of Module
10.1  was correct; we really are similar to “giant babies.”

Parenting and Attachment
In humans, the tension between helping others versus being concerned
for ourselves reflects a kind of tug-of-war between two psychobiological
systems: the attachment behavioural system , which is focused on meeting
our own needs for security, and the caregiving behavioural system , which
is focused on meeting the needs of others. Each system guides our behaviour
when it is activated; however, the attachment system is primary, and if it
is activated, it tends to shut down the caregiving system. What this means
in everyday experience is that if a person feels insecure, it will be hard for
them to take others’ needs into consideration. However, if attachment
needs are fulfilled, then the caregiving system responds to others’

distress, motivating the person to care for others (Mikulincer & Shaver,
2005). Thus, raising kind, moral children is about helping them feel loved
and secure, not just teaching them right from wrong.
Faced with the constant challenge of managing their children’s behaviour,

parents commonly turn to the principles of operant conditioning, using
rewards (e.g., Smarties, physical affection, loving words) and
punishments (e.g., angry tone of voice, time-outs, criticism) as necessary.
It seems like common sense, so how could it be a problem? These
conditional approaches (i.e., rewards and punishments that are applied in
certain conditions) can have significant unintended consequences.
Although conditional approaches often produce the desired behaviours,
these behaviours don’t tend to persist over the long term if the child does
not understand the parents’ reasoning (Deci at al., 1999). Further, when
parents aren’t around to administer rewards or punishments, children
may find it difficult to “do the right thing.”
Finally, conditional parenting can impact children’s self-esteem and
emotional security. Because children learn to associate feeling good about
themselves with the experience of receiving rewards and avoiding
punishment, their self-esteem becomes more dependent upon external
sources of validation. Children who experience their parents’ regard for
them as conditional report more negativity and resentment toward their
parents; they also feel greater internal pressure to do well, which is called
introjection , the internalization of the conditional regard of significant
others (Assor et al., 2004). Unfortunately, the more that people motivate
themselves through introjection, the more unstable their self-esteem
(Kernis et al., 2000), and the worse they tend to cope with failure
(Grolnick & Ryan, 1989).
So what works better? Research clearly shows that moral development
and healthy attachment is associated with inductive discipline , which
involves explaining the consequences of a child’s actions on other people,

activating empathy for others’ feelings (Hoffman & Saltzsein, 1967).
Providing a rationale for a parent’s decisions, showing empathy and

understanding of the child’s emotions, and allowing the child choice
whenever possible all promote positive outcomes such as increased self-

control, perseverance, and internalization of moral values (Deci et al.,
1994; Patrick & Gibbs, 2012). When it comes to raising moral children,
the “golden rule” seems to apply just as well—do unto your children as
you would have someone do unto you.
In the next section we will learn how parental sensitivity to the emotional
needs of children is connected to the development of self-awareness, as

well as to the ability to take other people’s perspectives.
Self-Awareness
Between 18–24 months of age, toddlers begin to gain self-awareness ,
the ability to recognize one’s individuality. The presence of self-awareness is
typically tested by observing infants’ reactions to their reflection in a
mirror or on video (Bahrick & Watson, 1985; Bard et al., 2006). Self-
awareness becomes increasingly sophisticated over the course of

development, progressing from the ability to recognize themself in a
mirror to the ability to reflect on their own feelings, decisions, and
appearance. By the time children reach their fifth birthday, they become
self-reflective, show concern for others, and are intensely interested in
the causes of other people’s behaviour.
By two years of age, toddlers can recognize themselves in mirrors.

Melpomen/123RF
Young children are often described as egocentric , meaning that they only
consider their own perspective (Piaget & Inhelder, 1956). This definition
does not imply that children are selfish or inconsiderate, but that they
merely lack the cognitive ability to understand the perspective of others.
For example, a two-year-old may attempt to hide by simply covering their
own eyes. From their perspective, they are hidden. Piaget believed that
children were predominantly egocentric until the end of the
preoperational phase (ending around age seven). He tested for
egocentrism by sitting a child in front of an object, and then presenting
pictures of that object from four angles. While sitting opposite the child,
Piaget would ask them to identify which image represented the object
from Piaget’s own perspective. Children’s egocentricity was demonstrated
by selecting the image corresponding to their own perspective, rather
than being able to imagine what Piaget would be seeing (Figure 10.12 ).
Figure 10.12 Piaget’s Test for Egocentric Perspective in Children

Piaget used the three-mountain task to test whether children can take
someone else’s perspective. The child would view the object from one
perspective while another person viewed it from a different point of view.
According to Piaget, children are no longer exclusively egocentric if they
understand that the other person sees the object differently.
Modern research indicates that children take the perspective of others

long before the preoperational phase is complete. Perspective taking in
young children has been demonstrated in studies of theory of mind —

the ability to understand that other people have thoughts, beliefs, and
perspectives that may be different from one’s own. Consider the following
scenario:
An experimenter offers three-year-old Andrea a box of chocolates. Upon opening the box,
Andrea discovers not candy, but rather pencils. Joseph enters the room and she watches as
Joseph is offered the same box. The researcher asks Andrea, “What does Joseph expect to find
in the box?”
If Andrea answers “pencils,” this indicates that she believes Joseph knows
the same thing she does. However, if Andrea tells the experimenter that
Joseph expects to see chocolates, it demonstrates that she is taking

Joseph’s mental perspective, understanding that he does not possess her
knowledge that the “chocolate box” actually contains pencils (Lillard,
1998; Wimmer & Perner, 1983). Children typically pass this test at ages
four to five, although younger children may pass it if they are told that
Joseph is about to be tricked (Figure 10.13 ). Of course, the shift away
from egocentric thought does not occur overnight. Older children may
still have difficulty taking the perspective of others; in fact, even adults
aren’t that great at it much of the time. Maintaining a healthy awareness
of the distinction between self and other, and accepting the uniqueness of
the other person’s perspective, is a continual process.
Figure 10.13 A Theory-of-Mind Task

There are different methods of testing false beliefs. In this example,
Andrea is asked what she thinks Joseph expects to find in the “chocolate
box.” If she has developed theory-of-mind skills, she will be able to
differentiate between her knowledge of the box’s contents (pencils) and
what Joseph would expect to find (chocolates).
Psychological research now indicates that self-awareness and theory of

mind are in constant development right from birth. Early in children’s
lives, emotions are often experienced as chaotic, overwhelming, and
unintegrated combinations of physical sensations, non-verbal

representations, and ideas. As caregivers respond to children’s emotions,
the children learn how to interpret and organize their emotions; this
helps them become more aware of their own feelings (Fonagy & Target,
1997). As children gain the ability to understand their internal states with
greater clarity, it enhances their ability to represent the mental states of
others.
This process helps to explain why it is important that caregivers not over-
identify with a child’s emotions. If their emotional exchange is completely

synchronized (e.g., the child experiences fear and the adult also
experiences fear), then the child simply gets their fear reinforced, rather
than gaining the ability to understand that she is feeling fear. In a study of
how mothers behave after their infants received an injection, Fonagy et
al. (1995) observed that the mothers who most effectively soothed their
child reflected their child’s emotions, but also included other emotional
displays in their mirroring, such as smiling or questioning. The mother’s
complex representation of the child’s experience ensured that the child
recognized it as related to, but not identical to, his own emotion. This
serves to alter the child’s negative emotions by helping him to implicitly
build coping responses into the experience (Fonagy & Target, 1997).
Therefore, in the early stages of life, these face-to-face exchanges of
emotional signals help the child’s brain learn how to understand and deal
with emotions (Beebe et al., 1997).

Psychosocial Development
In the previous section, we saw the powerful effect that attachment can
have on a child’s behaviour. Importantly, we also saw that attachment-
related behaviours that are observed in infants and young children can
sometimes predict how those individuals will behave as adults. This
shows us that our development is actually a life-long process rather than

a series of isolated stages.
A pioneer in the study of development across the lifespan was Erik Erikson,
a German-American psychologist. He proposed a theory of development
consisting of overlapping stages that extend from infancy to old age
(Erikson, 1982) (Table 10.4 ). In this module, we will examine the stages
of development that relate to infancy and childhood. We will return to
Erikson’s work again in Modules 10.3  (Adolescence) and 10.4 
(Adulthood), each time discussing the parts of his theory that apply to
those stages of development.
Table 10.4 Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development

Development across the Lifespan
Erikson’s theory of development across the lifespan included elements of
both cognitive and social development, and centred around the notion
that at different ages, people face particular developmental crises, or
challenges, based on emotional needs that are most relevant to them at
that stage of life. If people are able to successfully rise to the challenge
and get their emotional needs met, then they develop in a healthy way.
But if this process is disrupted for some reason and people are not able to
successfully navigate a stage, the rest of the person’s personality and
development could be impacted by certain deficits in their psychosocial
functioning.
The first stage, Infancy, focuses on the issue of trust vs. mistrust. The
infant’s key challenge in life is developing a basic sense of security, of
feeling comfortable (or at least not terrified) in a strange and often
indifferent world. Infants just want to know that everything is okay, and
this starts with being held—being physically connected through touch and
affectionate contact. As the infant develops more complex social
relationships, their basic emotional security (or insecurity) grows out of
the trust vs. mistrust that develops out of this stage.
The second stage, Toddlerhood, focuses on the challenge of autonomy vs.
shame. The toddler, able to move themselves about increasingly
independently, is poised to discover a whole new world. The toddler
discovers that they are a separate creature from others and from the
environment; thus, exploring their feelings of autonomy—exercising their
will as an individual in the world—becomes very important. (If you’ve
ever hung out with a toddler for extended periods of time, you have
probably experienced their stubborn resistance, like emphatically stating
“No!” to whatever you have suggested, for no clear reason.)
By the end of the first two stages, the person is, ideally, secure, and they
feel a basic sense of themselves as having separate needs from others. On
the other hand, if these stages were not successfully navigated, the person
may struggle with feelings of inadequacy or low self-worth, and these will
play out in their subsequent development.
The third stage, Early childhood, is characterized as the challenge of
initiative vs. guilt. Building on the emotional security and sense of self-
assurance that comes from the first two stages, here the growing child
learns to take responsibility for themself while feeling like they have the
ability to influence parts of their physical and social world. These
preschoolyears involve children pushing their boundaries and
experimenting with what they can do with their rapidly developing

bodies, and then experiencing guilt when they are scolded or otherwise
encounter the disapproval of others, such as their parents. If this stage is

navigated successfully, the child develops increased confidence and a
sense of personal control and responsibility.
The fourth stage, Childhood, is all about industry vs. inferiority. Here the
child is focused on the tasks of life, particularly school and the various
skill development activities that take place for that big chunk of
childhood. This stage is an important part of the child’s increasing feeling
of being in control of their actions, leading them to be able to regulate
themself to achieve long-term goals, develop productive habits, and gain

a sense of themself as actively engaged in their own life.
Taking Erikson’s first four stages together, you can see how childhood
links emotional development with the feeling of being a competent
individual. You can also see how the challenges associated with these
stages are tied together with the quality of a person’s key relationships
and the many complex ways in which others (e.g., parents) help or hinder
the child’s ability to meet their emotional needs.
Module 10.2 Summary
10.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with infancy and

childhood.
Review Module 10.2
10.2b Understand . . . the cognitive changes that occur during

infancy and childhood.
According to Piaget’s theory of cognitive development, infants mature
through childhood via orderly transitions across the sensorimotor,

preoperational, concrete operational, and formal operational stages. This
progression reflects a general transition from engaging in the world
through purely concrete, sensory experiences, to an increasing ability to
hold and manipulate abstract representations in one’s mind.
Review Applying Piaget's Theory
10.2c Understand . . . the importance of attachment and the

different styles of attachment.
In developmental psychology, attachment refers to the enduring social

bond between child and caregiver. Based on the quality of this bond,
which is dependent upon appropriately responsive parenting, individuals

develop an attachment style, which is their internalized feeling of security
and self-worth. Children are either securely or insecurely attached, and

insecure attachments can be further divided into disorganized,
anxious/ambivalent, and avoidant styles.

10.2d Apply . . . the concept of scaffolding and the zone of
proximal development to understand how to best promote
learning.
According to Vygotsky, cognitive development unfolds in a social context.

Adults who are attuned to the child’s experience can help to scaffold the
child’s learning, guiding them such that they focus on challenges that lie
on the very edge of their capabilities. This keeps a child fully engaged in
the zone of proximal development, maximizing their skill development.
10.2e Analyze . . . how to effectively discipline children in order

to promote moral behaviour.
Internalizing prosocial motives comes from children developing a secure

attachment, experiencing empathy, and receiving inductive discipline.
Children have an innate sense of morality, but this can be interfered with
if their attachment needs are insufficiently met. Therefore, responsive
parenting that helps the child feel secure lays the foundation for the child
to become less self-focused. As the child cognitively develops and can
more explicitly take others’ perspectives, inductive reasoning that
emphasizes perspective taking and empathy builds the habit of “doing

good” because the child genuinely cares, rather than because the child
wants to receive approval or to avoid punishment.

Module 10.3 Adolescence
Picture Partners/Alamy Stock Photo
10.3a Know . . . the key terminology concerning adolescent
development.
10.3b Understand . . . the process of identity formation during
adolescence.
10.3c Understand . . . the importance of relationships in adolescence.
10.3d Understand . . . the functions of moral emotions.
10.3e Apply . . . your understanding of the categories of moral
reasoning.
10.3f Analyze . . . the relationship between brain development and
adolescent judgment and risk taking.
Teenagers are acutely aware of their self-image, and can go to great
lengths to create an image they believe others will find likeable,
interesting, and “popular.” To make things even more challenging, teens
not only contend with their in-person image, but also their “digital
image.” Therein lies its potential hazards. How people present
themselves and interact with others may be less genuine than how they
relate in person. The digital world offers a medium for creating an

idealized version of the self, which may compromise self-acceptance,
and leaves individuals vulnerable to cruel acts. Social media can be a

platform for bullying and public humiliation, now that your
indiscretions or mistakes can be posted online to haunt people for years

to come. In 2012, 15-year-old Amanda Todd from British Columbia
was ostracized and humiliated by her peers after revealing photos of her
were posted online. Although she switched schools, she couldn’t escape
the online bullying, and tragically she died by suicide.
The internet and social media have revolutionized society in a single
human generation. But we don’t know how it will affect human

development, particularly in the challenging period of adolescence
when people are forming their identities and often committing some of
their biggest mistakes. This will undoubtedly be a major focus for
research, and will raise major questions for society in the years to come.
“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” For many people, this
pretty much sums up adolescence, a time of confusion, pimples, and
existential angst, as well as hanging out with friends, gaining greater

independence from parents, and focusing intensely on intimate
relationships. This often tumultuous time between childhood and

adulthood involves many physical changes, increasing cognitive
sophistication, and a great deal of emotional and social volatility.
Amanda Todd: A tragic case of cyber-bullying.
Darryl Dyck/Canadian Press

Physical and Emotional Changes in
Adolescence
The physical transition from childhood to adolescence starts with
puberty, culminating in reproductive maturity. Puberty begins at
approximately age 11 in girls and age 13 in boys, although there is wide
variation. The changes that occur during puberty are primarily caused by
hormonal activity. Physical growth is stimulated by the pituitary gland,

under the control of the hypothalamus, which regulates the release of
hormones such as testosterone and estrogen. These hormones also
contribute to the development of primary and secondary sex traits in boys
and girls. Primary sex traits  are changes in the body that are part of
reproduction (e.g., enlargement of the genitals, ability to ejaculate, the

onset of menstruation). Secondary sex traits  are changes in the body that
are not part of reproduction, such as the growth of pubic hair, increased
breast size in females, and increased muscle mass in males (Figure
10.14 ).
Figure 10.14 Physical Changes That Accompany Puberty in Male and Female Adolescents
Hormonal changes accelerate the development of physical traits in males
and females. Changes involve maturation of the reproductive system
(primary sex traits) as well as secondary sex traits such as enlargement of
breasts in women and increased muscle mass in males.
For girls, menarche —the onset of menstruation—typically occurs around

age 12. The timing of menarche is influenced by physiological and
environmental factors, such as nutrition, genetics, physical activity levels,

illness (Ellis & Garber, 2000), and family structure, such as the absence of
a father (Bogaert, 2008). Boys are considered to reach sexual maturity at
spermarche , their first ejaculation of sperm, at around age 14.
Interestingly, puberty happens much earlier now than it did 100 years
ago. American teens in the 19th century started puberty at age 16 to 17 on

average; nowadays, about one-third of boys show the beginnings of
physical maturation at age 9 (Reiter & Lee, 2001), as do almost 40% of

European-American girls, and almost 80% of African-American girls
(Herman-Giddens et al., 1997). This is probably because of behavioural
changes that increase body fat (e.g., poor nutrition, insufficient exercise),
and environmental stresses that increase stress hormones in the body. As
the environment changes, our biology changes along with it.
Teens’ rapidly developing bodies bring a host of developmental

challenges, from feelings of self-consciousness and a heightened desire to
be attractive and to fit in, to increasing sexual interest and

experimentation, to the negative moods that accompany hormonal
fluctuations (Warren & Brooks-Gunn, 1989). Adolescents who begin to

physically develop earlier than their peers can face additional challenges.
Early-developing females often have to cope with being teased and
having their bodies made into objects of others’ attention. Early-

developing boys tend to have it easier; their masculine traits are often
regarded positively by both themselves and their peers. Nevertheless,

early developers of either gender run a greater risk of drug and alcohol
abuse and of unwanted pregnancies.
Research has shown that adolescence is a time of major brain changes as

well. In particular, the frontal lobes undergo a massive increase in
myelination, speeding up neural firing by up to 100-fold in those areas

(Barnea-Goraly et al., 2005; Sowell et al., 2003). The frontal lobes also
undergo a wave of synaptic pruning, during which relatively unused
synaptic connections are broken, leaving a more efficiently functioning

brain. The net result of these changes is an increase in teens’ abilities to
exert self-control. However, during adolescence this process is merely
under way, not completed, leaving teens often struggling with volatile
emotional experiences.
The physical and emotional changes associated with puberty are widely
believed to be connected to each other. For example, mood swings and
experimental high-risk behaviours are attributed to “raging hormones.”
But is this characterization of adolescence accurate? Are most teens
hormonally supercharged animals, constantly desiring to hook up with

the first attractive (or even unattractive) person to cross their path?
The belief that adolescence is tumultuous has held sway in popular

culture as well as in psychology since at least the early 1900s (Hall, 1904);
some theorists even believed that the absence of extreme volatility was
an indication of arrested development (Freud, 1958). However, this belief
came under fire from cultural anthropologists (Benedict, 1938; Mead,
1928), who discovered that in many non-Western cultures, the transition
from childhood to adulthood happened remarkably smoothly; children

simply began to take on more and more responsibilities, and then moved
into their adult roles without such a dramatic and volatile transition.
In the decades since, research has painted a somewhat mixed picture of
adolescence. On the up side, the majority of teens keep their forays into
debauchery fairly minimal and do not let their larger lives get unduly
harmed by their experimentation. Most teens also grow out of these
patterns fairly readily and move into adulthood relatively unscathed by
their teenage experiences (Bachman et al., 1997). Navigating adolescence

successfully leaves teens feeling they know who they are, having
constructed a healthy social identity, and having learned to identify at
least some of their own personal values and goals. On the down side,
however, the emotional road through adolescence also contains its fair
share of bumps. Teens are prone to experiencing particularly intense and
volatile emotions (Dahl, 2001; Rosenblum & Lewis, 2003), including
heightened feelings of anxiety and depression (Van Oort et al., 2009).

Emotional Regulation during Adolescence
Adolescence is a time when the capacity to regulate emotions is still a
work in progress (McLaughlin et al., 2011). Research at Queen’s
University has shown that one key to adolescents effectively regulating
their emotions is to be able to draw flexibly upon a diverse set of self-
control strategies. Adolescents who rely upon a limited number of

adaptive strategies (e.g., learning to suppress emotions or, conversely,
learning to always reach out and talk to people about their feelings) and
narrowly rely upon their chosen strategies are at greater risk for
developing symptoms of anxiety and depression (Lougheed &
Hollenstein, 2012).
One of the most flexible and powerful strategies for dealing with
emotions is cognitive reframing (see Module 16.2 ), where we learn to
look at our experience through a different “frame.” For example, failure
can be reframed as an opportunity to learn, and a threatening experience

as a challenge to be overcome. The ability to effectively choose reframing
strategies, especially when under the grip of strong emotions, relies upon
a sophisticated cognitive control network involving the frontal and
parietal lobes (McClure et al., 2004). These are precisely the brain areas
that are undergoing the most development during adolescence. Thus,
helping adolescents learn self-control strategies is critically important, not
only for developing good habits, but also for helping them to develop the
cognitive control systems in their brains. The ability to reframe is critical
to one of the most important skills adolescents need to hone as they

move into adulthood—the ability to delay gratification , putting off
immediate temptations in order to focus on longer-term goals. For example,
should you party with your friends or study for the test next week?
Adolescents who master this skill are far more likely to be successful in
life. An inability to delay gratification reflects a tendency to discount the
future in order to live in the moment, which lies at the heart of a wide
range of dysfunctional behaviours, ranging from addictions and unsafe
sex, to racking up credit card debt and failing to meet deadlines (Romer et
al., 2010).
Importantly, delaying gratification is a skill that people can learn. In fact,
the challenge of delaying gratification is basically the same as the
challenge of controlling emotions, and the same strategies, such as
cognitive reframing, are useful.

Adolescent Risk and Decision Making
One of the nightmares of many parents is the smorgasbord of
disasters that they assume awaits adolescents as they explore

their increasing independence—sexually transmitted diseases,
drugs, and the whole host of alluring activities parents wish were
never invented (despite their own fond memories of their
younger years . . .).
What do we know about adolescence and

risky decision making?
Parents do have some reason to fear; research shows that
adolescents are particularly prone to behaving impulsively and
making risky decisions (Chambers et al., 2003; Steinberg, 2007).

As a result, driving recklessly, unsafe sex (Arnett, 1992), drug and
alcohol abuse, accidents, and violence are more common during
adolescence than during any other stage of life (Chambers &
Potenza, 2003; Steinberg, 2008).
Why might many adolescents make poor judgment calls in
comparison to children or adults? Adolescence, at least as we
may see it expressed in North America, is a perfect storm of risk-
inducing factors, including a teenage culture that glorifies high-

risk activities, intense peer pressure, increased freedom from
parents, a growing ability to critically question the values and

traditions of society, and a brain that is ripe for risk due to still-
developing cognitive control systems (especially the prefrontal
cortex) and well-developed reward systems located in limbic
areas (Casey et al., 2008; Galvan et al., 2006). Indeed, one view of
many developmental scientists is that teenage neurophysiology is
a battleground of opposing urges; the reward system acts like the
proverbial devil on the shoulder, urging, “Do it! Do it!” while the
underdeveloped prefrontal areas play the role of the beleaguered
angel, pleading, “Don’t do it! It’s not worth it!”
How can science test the link between brain

function and decision making in adolescents?
Modern technology has enabled researchers to look at the brain
activity of adolescents in the process of making risky decisions. In
one study, adolescents had their brains scanned using functional
magnetic resonance imaging while they played a betting game. In

this experiment, participants had to make a decision between a
high-risk, high-reward choice (placing a $6 bet with a 25%
chance of winning) and a low-risk, low-reward choice (placing a
$1 bet with a 50% chance of winning).
Adolescents who selected the high-risk choice had less brain

activity in their prefrontal cortex than those who selected the
low-risk choice (Figure 10.15 ; Shad et al., 2011). It seems that

choosing the high-risk gamble was, in a sense, easier; those teens
simply focused on how much they wanted the bigger reward, and
ignored the higher likelihood that they would lose. On the other
hand, making the low-risk choice involved some neurological

conflict; those teens wanted the bigger reward, but restrained
themselves by taking into account the probabilities. This restraint
involved the frontal lobes.
Figure 10.15 Extended Brain Development

The prefrontal cortex (circled in blue) continues to develop
through adolescence and into young adulthood.
werbefoto-burger.ch/Fotolia
This study helps to shed light on adolescent decision making in

general. Compared to adults, adolescents have less-developed
frontal lobes, and in some situations are more likely to default to

their strong reward impulses, rather than restraining their desires
as a result of more sober and complex calculations of what would

be in their best interest overall.
Can we critically evaluate this explanation for

risky decision making?
This brain-based explanation does not fully explain adolescents’
behaviour, in at least two important ways. First, in this particular
study, it’s not clear whether the prefrontal activation reflects

teens thinking in more complex ways, or whether it shows that
they are consciously restraining themselves from following their
reward-focused desires. Is the key factor here about complex

thought or self-control?
Second, in everyday decisions, other factors likely influence
teens’ preference for risk, such as the size of rewards and costs,
the importance of long-term goals, personality characteristics

such as extraversion (which is related to reward sensitivity), and
the social context in which the decisions occur. Attributing risky
behaviour in adolescents to underdeveloped frontal lobes is a

gross simplification of the issue, and ignores nuanced scientific
studies that examine these and other factors (Blakemore, 2018;
Romer et al., 2017). For example, psychologists have found that
in some situations, adolescents are no more likely to engage in

risky behaviour than adults. But when other teens are around,
this propensity changes (see Figure 10.16 ). In fact, the presence
of other teens can reduce the activity in the frontal lobes
(Segalowitz et al., 2012). Clearly, realistic strategies for reducing
adolescent risk taking should also consider the important role

that situational factors play in adolescents’ decision making.
Figure 10.16 What Drives Teenagers to Take Risks?

One key factor in risk taking is simply other teenagers. When teens
play a driving video game with other teens, they crash more than
when playing the same game alone, and more than adults playing
the game (from Steinberg, 2007).
Source: Adapted from Figure 2, p. 630 in Gardner, M., & Steinberg, L. (2005). Peer
influence on risk-taking, risk preference, and risky decision-making in adolescence and
adulthood: An experimental study. Developmental Psychology, 41(4), 652–635.

Risk taking peaks during adolescence, and risk-related
behaviours such as reckless driving account for a high proportion
of injuries and deaths in this group. This is cause for significant
concern and should be considered, in a scientifically informed

way, within programs and institutions that involve adolescents
(e.g., school systems). Popular media such as films and books
may give us the sense that the period of adolescence represents a
public health crisis. It is important to keep in mind that although
risk taking rises in adolescence, its overall prevalence (e.g., the

actual percentage of adolescents who engage in risky behaviour)
is low. In other words, you should not base your view of
adolescents on only a handful of individuals who confirm your
expectations (i.e., who fit this stereotype).

Cognitive Development: Moral
Reasoning vs. Emotions
As we have just seen, making wise decisions involves activation of the
prefrontal cortex. This area is involved in higher cognitive abilities, such
as abstract reasoning and logic (what Piaget referred to as formal
operational thinking; see Module 10.2 ), which also begin to show
substantial improvements starting at about age 12. Since Piaget,
psychologists have generally believed that the shift to formal operational
thinking laid the foundation for effective moral reasoning. For
adolescents, this increase in complex cognitive ability allows them to
consider abstract moral principles, to view problems from multiple

perspectives, and to think more flexibly.
Kohlberg’s Moral Development: Learning
Right from Wrong
The most influential theory of the development of moral reasoning was
created by Lawrence Kohlberg, after studying how people reasoned
through complex moral dilemmas. Imagine the following classic scenario,

unlikely as it may be:
A trolley is hurtling down the tracks toward a group of five unsuspecting people. You are
standing next to a lever that, if pulled, would direct the trolley onto another track, thereby
saving the five individuals. However, on the second track stands a single, unsuspecting
person, who would be struck by the diverted trolley.
What would you choose to do? Would you pull the lever, directly causing
one person to die, but saving five others? Or would you be unwilling to
directly cause someone’s death and therefore do nothing? Moral
dilemmas provide interesting tests of reasoning because they place values
in conflict with each other. Obviously, five lives are more than one, yet
most people are also unwilling to take a direct action that would cause a
person to be killed.
But even more important than what you would choose is why you would
choose it. Kohlberg (1984) believed that people’s reasons evolved as they
grew up and became better able to think in complex ways. By analyzing
people’s reasons for their decisions in these sorts of dilemmas, he
developed a stage theory of moral development, here organized into
three general stages (see Table 10.5 ).

Table 10.5 Applying Kohlberg's Stages of Moral Reasoning
At the preconventional level, people reason largely based on self-interest,
such as avoiding punishment. This reasoning is what parents
predominantly appeal to when they threaten children with some form of

punishment for their behaviour. At the conventional level, people reason
largely based on social conventions (e.g., tradition) and the dictates of

authority figures; this is what parents are appealing to with the famously
frustrating “Because I said so!” At the postconventional level, people

reason based on abstract principles such as justice and fairness, thus
enabling them to critically question and examine social conventions, and

to consider complex situations in which different values may conflict.
Kohlberg regarded the three stages of moral reasoning as universal to all

humans; however, because he developed his theory mostly through the
study of how males reason about moral dilemmas, other researchers

argued that he had failed to consider that females may reason about
moral issues differently. Carol Gilligan (1982) suggested that females base
moral decisions on a standard of caring for others, rather than the
“masculine” focus on standards of justice and fairness that Kohlberg
emphasized. Some support has been found for this; women are more
likely to highlight the importance of maintaining harmony in their
relationships with others (Lyons, 1983). On the other hand, men and
women generally make highly similar judgments about moral dilemmas
(Boldizar et al., 1989), and both genders make use of both caring and
justice principles (Clopton & Sorell, 1993). These findings have led other
researchers to question the importance of the gender distinction (Jaffee &
Hyde, 2000).
However, a potentially more devastating critique has been made against

the moral reasoning perspective in general, based on research showing
that moral reasoning doesn’t actually predict behaviour very well

(Carpendale, 2000; Haidt, 2001). Knowing that something is right or
wrong is very different from feeling that it is right or wrong. According to

Jonathan Haidt’s social intuitionist model of morality, in our everyday lives
our moral decisions are largely based on how we feel, not what we think.
Haidt argues that moral judgments are guided by intuitive, emotional
reactions, like our “gut feelings,” and then afterward, we construct
arguments to support our judgments. For example, imagine the following

scenario (adapted from Haidt, 2001):
Julie and Steven are brother and sister. They are travelling together in France on summer
vacation from college. One night they are staying alone in a cabin near the beach. They decide
that it would be interesting and fun if they shared a “romantic” evening together. At the very
least it would be a new experience for each of them. They both enjoy the experience but they
decide not to do it again. They keep that night as a special secret, which makes them feel even
closer to each other.

Emotion is a major component of moral thinking and decision making.
Alex Wong/Getty Images
How do you react to this scenario? Was what took place between the two
siblings morally acceptable? If you are like most people, you probably did
not think carefully through this scenario, consider different perspectives,
and examine your reasoning before making a decision. Instead, your
decision was made immediately, and was guided by your gut reaction,
rather than rational deliberation. It is only after making a decision that
most people engage in more thoughtful and reflective reasoning, trying to
justify their decision. So emotions play a key role in our moral regard for
others. Even chimpanzees seem to feel this way. When children and
chimpanzees were wronged by another person, both species expended
physical effort (chimps) or monetary units (children) if it meant that they
could watch the antisocial instigator be punished (Mendes et al., 2017).
Improvements in emotional regulation that occur during adolescence

have an influence on moral behaviour. Without some control over
emotional reactions, people can become overwhelmed by the personal
distress they experience upon encountering the suffering of others
(Eisenberg, 2000), and end up attending to their own needs rather than
others’. Self-control, in turn, involves brain areas that are rapidly

developing in adolescents, particularly the prefrontal cortex.
It is interesting to consider that the development of key moral emotions,

such as empathy, is intimately bound up with the extent to which a
person’s social relationships have been healthy right from birth (see
Module 10.2 ). People who are regularly socially included and treated
well by others are more likely to develop trust and security, which results
in well-developed areas of the prefrontal cortex necessary for good
decision making and well-developed moral emotional systems. This

shows us that the early roots of moral behaviour reach all the way back
into infancy, when attachment styles are initially formed, and extend into
adolescence and beyond, when complex cognitive and self-control
abilities are strengthened.
Social Development: Identity and
Relationships
The final aspect of adolescence to consider is the role of social
relationships. To teenagers, friends are everything—the people who will
support your story to your parents about why you came home late, who
laugh hysterically with you at three in the morning, and who help you
feel that your choice of clothing is actually cool. Friends are central to two
of the most important changes that occur during adolescence—the
formation of a personal identity, and the shift away from family
relationships and toward peer and romantic relationships. These major
changes in teens’ lives are sources of growth and maturation, but are also
often sources of distress and conflict.

Who Am I? Identity Formation during
Adolescence
A major issue faced by adolescents is forming an identity , which is a
clear sense of what kind of person you are, what types of people you belong with,
and what roles you should play in society. It involves coming to appreciate
and express one’s attitudes and values (Arnett, 2000; Lefkowitz, 2005),
which are, in large part, realized through identifying more closely with
peers and being accepted into valued social groups.
You may recall Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development from

Module 10.2  (see Table 10.4 , in Module 10.4  , for an overview).
Erikson described the stage of adolescence as involving the struggle of
identity vs. role confusion. Adolescents are seeking to define who they are,
in large part through their attachment to specific social groups; doing this
stage successfully allows them to enter adulthood with a sense of their

own authenticity and self-awareness.
In fact, forming an identity is so important in the teenage years that
adolescents may actually experience numerous identity crises before they
reach young adulthood. An identity crisis involves curiosity, questioning,
and exploration of different identities. It can also involve attaching
yourself to different goals and values, different styles of music and
fashion, and different subcultural groups, all the while wondering where
you best fit in, and who you really are.

The process of exploring a variety of identities, and experiencing more
independence from the family, sets the stage for potential conflict,
particularly with parents. Even well-meaning parents may feel somewhat
threatened as their teenage son or daughter starts to establish more
distance or starts to experiment with identities they feel are unwise. They
may feel hurt and want to hold on to their closeness with their child.
They may also feel concerned and want to protect their child from making
mistakes they will later regret. So, parents may simply be trying to help,
but their advice, rules, or insistence that the teen abandon certain goals
(“There’s no way you’re giving up math and science to take drama and
music!”) may be interpreted as being restrictive or controlling. This, not
surprisingly, can lead to conflict. And the more conflict teens perceive at
home, the more they may turn to peers.

Peer Groups
Friendships are a major priority for most adolescents. Friendships
generally take place within a broader social context of small groups or
cliques, and the membership and intensity of friendships within a clique
constantly change (Cairns & Cairns, 1994). Adolescent crowds—often
identified with specific labels, such as “jocks,” “geeks,” “Goths,” or

“druggies”—are larger than cliques and are characterized by common
social and behavioural conventions.
Adolescents who can’t find their place in social networks have a difficult
time; social exclusion can be a devastating experience. When rejected by

peers, some adolescents turn to virtual social networks for online
friendships, or join distinctive sub-groups in order to gain acceptance.
This tendency to seek acceptance within specific groups is obviously not
limited to teenagers, but adolescence is a time of particular social
vulnerability because adolescents are, in general, so actively working on

their “identity project.”
Photos 12/Alamy Stock Photo
AF archive/Alamy Stock Photo

For decades, television shows and movies have offered glimpses into life
within adolescent cliques and crowds. The portrayals may be
exaggerated, but they are often successful because viewers can closely
identify with the characters’ experiences.
One of the most troubling outcomes of social rejection is the experience
of shame, which is a feeling that there is something wrong with you. It

can be accompanied by feelings of worthlessness, inferiority, or just a
more subtle, gnawing feeling that there is something wrong with you,
that you need to prove yourself, and that you aren’t quite good enough.
Shame-prone individuals have often experienced substantial social
rejection; a key source is within the family, such as when a child’s

attachment needs are consistently unmet.
Many psychologists believe that shame and other negative emotions that
are connected to social rejection, bullying, teasing, and being publicly

humiliated can lead to tragic outbursts of violence, such as the school
shootings that have become disturbingly frequent in the United States in

recent years. Just as the security from having your need to belong satisfied
leads to the development of empathy and moral behaviours (see Module

10.2 ), the insecurity from having your need to belong go unmet can lead
to violence.
Romantic Relationships
As children mature into teenagers, their attachment needs shift into their
intimate or romantic relationships. Here, the dramas of their
interpersonal systems play out on a new stage. In other words, teenagers
are pretty interested in being attracted to each other. This shift opens up
the potential exploration of new worlds of emotional and physical

intimacy and intensity.
Many people, for many different reasons, may feel uncomfortable with
adolescents exploring and engaging in sexual behaviour. Perhaps
unsurprisingly, North American teenagers themselves don’t seem to

agree. Between 40% and 50% of Canadian teens aged 15 to 19 report
having had sexual intercourse (Boyce et al., 2006; Rotermann, 2008), and
the proportion who have engaged in other forms of sexual acts such as
oral sex is considerably higher. More than 80% of American adolescents
report engaging in non-intercourse sex acts before the age of 16

(Bauserman & Davis, 1996), and more than half of Canadian teens in
grade 11 report having experienced oral sex (Boyce et al., 2006). Some
teens turn to oral sex because they see it as less risky than intercourse,
both for their health and their social reputation (Halpern-Fisher et al.,
2005).
Same-sex sexual encounters are also very common and typically occur by
early adolescence (Savin-Williams & Cohen, 2004), although contrary to
stereotypes, such an experience is not an indication of whether a person

identifies themselves as homosexual, or as having any other sexual
orientation. The process by which adolescents come to recognize their
sexual orientation depends on many factors, including how they are
perceived by their family and peers. Because of some people’s still-
existing prejudices against non-heterosexual orientations, it is common
for many people who don’t identify as heterosexual to experience some
difficulty accepting their sexuality, and thus, to struggle with feelings of
rejection toward themselves. However, this process is not always difficult
or traumatic; it largely depends on how supportive family and other
relationships can be. Nevertheless, despite these extra identity

challenges, homosexuals have about the same level of psychological well-
being as heterosexuals (Rieger & Savin-Williams, 2012).
Although sexual exploration is a normal part of adolescence, it can
unfortunately be dangerous for many people. Research at the University
of New Brunswick has shown that among Canadian teens in grade 11,
approximately 60% of both males and females reported having
experienced psychological aggression against them by their romantic
relationship partner. About 40% experienced sexual aggression, generally

in the form of being coerced or pressured into having sex (Sears & Byers,
2010).
Overall, the emotional upheaval of relationships, from the ecstasy of

attraction, to the heartbreak of being rejected or cheated on, to the
loneliness a person may feel in the absence of relationships, consumes a

great deal of many teenagers’ attention and resources and is a central part
of the often tumultuous experience of adolescence.

Module 10.3 Summary
10.3a Know . . . the key terminology concerning adolescent

development.
Review Module 10.3
10.3b Understand . . . the process of identity formation during

adolescence.
A major challenge of adolescence is the formation of a personal identity,
which involves exploring different values and behaviours, and seeking

inclusion in different social groups. The eventual outcome, if navigated
successfully, is a relatively stable and personally satisfying sense of self.
10.3c Understand . . . the importance of relationships in

adolescence.
Teenagers undergo a general shift in their social attachments as family
becomes less central and friends and intimate relationships take on
increased significance. The failure to establish a sense of belonging is an
important precursor to dysfunctional behaviours and violence.
10.3d Understand . . . the functions of moral emotions.
Contrary to theories of moral reasoning, recent research on moral
emotions suggests that these feelings are what lead to moral behaviour,
and reasoning generally follows as a way of justifying the behaviour to
oneself.
10.3e Apply . . . your understanding of the categories of moral

reasoning.
Apply Activity
Read the following scenarios and identify which category of moral
reasoning (preconventional, conventional, or postconventional) applies
to each.
1. Jeff discovers that the security camera at his job is disabled. He
decides it is okay to steal because there’s no way he’s going to get

caught.
2. Margaret is aware that a classmate has been sending hostile text

messages to various people at her school. Although she does not
receive these messages, and she does not personally know any of the
victims, Margaret reports the offending individual to school officials.
10.3f Analyze . . . the relationship between brain development

and adolescent judgment and risk taking.
Many problems with judgment and decision making involve a kind of

tug-of-war between emotional reward systems in the limbic areas of the
brain, and the prefrontal cortex, which is involved in planning, reasoning,
emotion, and impulse control. Because the prefrontal cortex is still

developing during adolescence, particularly through myelination and
synaptic pruning, it is often not sufficient to override the allure of

immediate temptations, leading to failures to delay gratification. These
observations about adolescent brain development can put some, but not
all, aspects of adolescent risk taking into biological context.
Module 10.4 Adulthood and Aging
reppans/Alamy Stock Photo
10.4a Know . . . the key terminology concerning adulthood and aging.
10.4b Know . . . the key areas of growth experienced by emerging
adults.
10.4c Understand . . . age-related disorders such as Alzheimer’s
disease.
10.4d Understand . . . how cognitive abilities change with age.
10.4e Apply . . . your attitudes about marriage.
10.4f Analyze . . . the stereotype that old age is a time of unhappiness.
“Use it or lose it.” This is one of those sayings that you grow up hearing,
and you think, “Yeah, whatever, I’m young and awesome; I’m never
going to lose it.” But time goes by, and like it or not, the day will come
when you may find yourself puffing at the top of a flight of stairs, or
standing in the kitchen wondering why you’re there. You may wonder,
what’s happened to me? Why do I feel so old?
We all know that if you stay physically active, your body will stay
stronger and healthier as you age, maintaining better cardiovascular

fitness, muscle tone, balance, and bone density. Thankfully, recent
advances in neuroscience confirm that the same thing is true for the
brain. If you use it, you’re less likely to lose it. This is important because,
unfortunately, brain connections are exactly what people lose as they
age, particularly from their 60s onward, resulting in less neural

connectivity and reductions in grey and white matter volume. These
neurological losses are accompanied by gradual declines in some types

of cognitive functioning.
The fact that exercising your brain slows down the neural signs of aging
—and even reduces the likelihood of developing age-related disorders
such as Alzheimer’s disease—is great news. And even better news is that
exercising your brain is actually fun! It’s not like spending countless
hours on the brain equivalent of a treadmill, memorizing pi to 35
decimal places. Instead, neurological exercisers are those who regularly

stay actively involved in things they love—games, sports, social
activities, hobbies, and in general remaining lifelong learners. This

makes getting old sound not so bad after all. . . .
Becoming an adult does not entail crossing any specific line. It’s not as
clear-cut as adolescence; after all, puberty is kind of hard to miss. In
Canada, from a legal perspective you are considered to be an adult at 18.

Still, it’s questionable whether 18-year-olds are fully fledged adults; they
have essentially the same lifestyle as 17-year-olds, often at home or in

student housing, with relatively few responsibilities beyond brushing
their teeth and dragging themselves to work or school. As time goes by,
people get increasingly integrated into working society, begin careers,
usually establish long-term relationships, pay bills, possibly have
children, and in a variety of ways conform to the expectations and

responsibilities of adulthood. As they move slowly from adolescence
toward retirement and beyond, adults go through a number of changes—

physically, socially, emotionally, cognitively, and neurologically. This
module will examine these changes across the stages of adult

development.
From Adolescence through Middle Age
When we are children and adolescents, we often feel like we can’t wait to
grow up. Many of you can likely remember how large and mature 18-
year-olds seemed when you were younger. Eighteen-year-olds went to
university, had jobs, and seemed so poised. Now that many of you are in
this age range, you can see that this view of emerging adults is a bit naïve.
That said, people in this age group have their entire adult lives in front of
them. The adventure is just beginning.

Emerging Adults
For young people living in industrialized countries, the time between
adolescence and adulthood is a period of great personal challenge and
potential growth. Emerging adults confront many adaptive challenges
(Arnett, 2000): they may leave home for the first time; start college,
university, or full-time work; become more financially responsible for

themselves; commit to and cohabit with romantic partners; and, of
course, deal with the endless crises of their friends.
Researchers at the University of Guelph conducted an in-depth study of
the experiences of emerging adults, identifying three main areas of

personal growth: relationships, new possibilities, and personal strengths
(Gottlieb et al., 2007). Interestingly, these correspond perfectly to the
domains of relatedness, autonomy, and competence that are widely
viewed as key pillars of healthy development throughout the lifespan
(these are discussed in depth in Module 11.3 ).
In the relationships domain, most people in this study felt that they had
grown in their abilities to trust others, to recruit support from others, and
generally to be able to establish strong and intimate connections. This
increased intimacy is an outgrowth of people learning to be themselves
with others, to know who they are, and to connect in ways that accept
and encourage people’s authenticity. The domain of new possibilities
reflects the greater freedom that emerging adults enjoy to choose
activities that better fit their goals and interests, to broaden their
horizons, and to actively search for what they want to do with their lives.
The domain of personal strength reflects the confidence young adults gain
as they confront more serious life challenges and discover that they can
handle them.
The emergence into adulthood is a time, therefore, of immense
opportunity. As a person comes into their own, they can engage with the
world that much more confidently and effectively. And that seems to be
the story of adulthood: greater opportunities, greater challenges.

Early and Middle Adulthood
The first few decades of early adulthood are typically the healthiest and
most vigorous times of life. People in their 20s to 40s are usually stronger,
faster, and healthier than young children or older people. After
adolescence, when you have finished growing, you enter a kind of
plateau period of physical development in which the body changes quite

slowly (aside from obvious exceptions, like pregnancy). For women, this
period starts to shift at approximately age 50 with the onset of
menopause , the termination of the menstrual cycle and reproductive ability.
The physical changes associated with menopause, particularly the
reduction in estrogen and progesterone, can result in symptoms such as

hot flashes, sleep disruption, and changes in mood. Psychologically, some
women experience a period of adjustment, perhaps feeling like they are
no longer “young” or as potentially worthwhile; these types of adjustment
problems are common to many different major life changes, and as
always, the severity of such symptoms varies widely among individuals.

Men, on the other hand, don’t experience a physical change as substantial
as menopause during middle adulthood, although testosterone
production and sexual motivation typically decline.
Early and middle adulthood are also an important time for relationships,
particularly of the romantic variety. This links back to Erik Erikson’s
theory of development across the lifespan (see Table 10.4 ). As
mentioned in earlier modules, in each of Erikson’s stages, the individual
faces a specific developmental challenge, or crisis of development. If they

successfully resolve this crisis and overcome this challenge, the person
becomes better able to rise to the challenges of subsequent stages and
moves on in life, letting go of specific issues that characterized the earlier
stages. However, if the stage is not successfully resolved, lingering issues
can interfere with the person’s subsequent development.
According to Erikson’s theory, the first four stages of development are
completed during infancy and childhood (see Module 10.2 ); the fifth
stage takes place during adolescence (see Module 10.3 ). In the sixth
stage, Young adulthood, the individual must cope with the conflict
between intimacy and isolation. This stage places emphasis on establishing
and maintaining close relationships. The following stage of adulthood
involves the tension of generativity vs. stagnation, during which the person
either becomes productively engaged in the world, playing somehow
useful roles in the world, or else the person “stagnates,” becoming overly
absorbed with their own lives, and failing to give back to the world in a
useful way.
Thus, putting these two stages together gives a decent picture of much of
the central foci in an adult’s life. Adulthood is this challenge of balancing
your own personal needs with your relationships, while also fulfilling
family responsibilities and playing a variety of different roles in society
(depending on things like career, and the roles you might play in the
community). A key part of these stages is marriage (or cohabitation),
perhaps the most important relationship(s) of adulthood.

Love and Marriage
Although not all long-term committed relationships proceed to marriage,
it remains the norm, with about two-thirds of Canadian families involving
a married couple (with or without children). The proportion of people
who marry varies by societal trends and civil arrangement options (e.g.,
common-law marriage). Regardless, most adults pursue some kind of

long-term relationship.
Consistent with Erikson’s theorizing, being able to establish a committed,
long-term relationship seems to be good for people (although not in all
cases, such as abusive relationships). On average, being in such a

relationship is associated with greater health, longer life (Coombs, 1991;
Koball et al., 2010), and increased happiness (Wayment & Peplau, 1995).
Numerous factors are involved in these benefits. For example, married
couples encourage each other to stay active and eat healthier diets, are
more satisfied with their sex lives (and have sex more frequently than
those who stay single), and enjoy greater financial security (Waite &
Gallagher, 2000).
But is it really marriage that makes people happier? Or is it due to living
together in a committed relationship? Many people believe that living
together before marriage is harmful to a relationship, whereas others
believe it is a wise thing to do before making the commitment to marry a
person. Until a few years ago, research suggested that despite the beliefs
of more progressively minded folks, cohabiting before marriage appeared

to be associated with weaker relationships in a variety of ways (e.g., Stack
& Eshleman, 1998). However, a dramatic reversal of this opinion
occurred after a large international study of relationships in 27 countries
(Lee & Ono, 2012) showed that the reason people in common-law
relationships seem less happy, on average, is actually because of cultural
intolerance of these types of relationships. In cultures with more traditional
gender roles, cohabiting outside of marriage is frowned upon, and
couples who do so suffer a social cost. This negatively affects women in
particular, whose happiness depends more heavily on family
relationships and interpersonal ties (Aldous & Ganey, 1999). In more

egalitarian societies, common-law relationships are not judged as
negatively, and consequently, there seems to be no cost to living with a
partner before marriage. Indeed, many people would argue that it is a
good idea, leading people to make better decisions when choosing a life
partner.
Despite the promise of “until death do us part,” about 40% of Canadian
marriages end in divorce (Statistics Canada, 2004; see Figure 10.17 ).
One of the key factors that determines whether a marriage will end, and
the factor that we have the most control over, is how well partners in a
relationship are able to communicate with each other, particularly when

they are having a conflict. Several decades of behavioural studies by Dr.
John Gottman looked at the communication patterns of couples and led

to some key insights about what makes relationships break down and
how relationship partners can prevent breakdowns from happening.
Figure 10.17 Marriage and Divorce Trends in Canada

Starting in the 1960s, Canadian divorce rates began rising quickly. They
have been fairly steady for the past 20 years.
Source: Statistics Canada. Divorce cases in civil court, 2010/2011, Juristat Article, Catalogue no.
85-002-X, 2012. Reproduced and distributed on an “as is” basis with the permission of Statistics
Canada.
By observing a couple interacting in his wonderfully named “love lab,”
Gottman has been able to predict with up to 94% accuracy whether a

relationship will end in divorce (e.g., Buehlman et al., 1992; Gottman &
Levenson, 2002). Across multiple studies, certain patterns of behaviour

are highly predictive of relationship break-up. He calls them, rather
dramatically, the Four Horsemen of the (Relationship) Apocalypse (Gottman
& Levenson, 1992, 2002). They include:
Criticism: picking out flaws, expressing disappointments, correcting
each other, and making negative comments about a spouse’s friends
and family
Defensiveness: responding to perceived attacks with counter-attacks
Contempt: dismissive eye rolls, sarcastic comments, and a cutting tone
of voice
Stonewalling: shutting down verbally and emotionally
The Four Horsemen of the (Relationship) Apocalypse: Learning to

recognize and change these negative communication patterns can make
many relationships better.
Source: Recognizing the Four Horsemen of the (Relationship) Apocalypse. Reprinted with
permission of the Gottman Institute at www.gottman.com.
Studying these four patterns of destructive communication is like

studying a trouble-shooting manual for the relationships of early and
middle adulthood. Avoid these patterns and nurture their opposing

tendencies (such as understanding, empathy, and acceptance), and your
relationships will have a much better chance of being positive and
fulfilling.
Parenting
One common (although by no means universal) aspect of intimate
relationships is the raising of children and having something you identify
as “a family” together. This is one of the most powerful routes by which
people experience a deepening in their feelings of being connected to
others. Certainly, whether a person is ready for it or not, parenting

basically forces you to become less self-centred. All of a sudden, there is
another being who for many years will be utterly dependent on you for its
survival and its healthy development.
The experience of becoming a parent, as with any other huge shift in life,
causes a person to reorganize their identity to some degree. Life is not
just about them anymore. And indeed, you would be miserable and feel
terrible about yourself if you ignored your child, tending instead to your
own completely independent needs.
Of course, making this transition—with the exhaustion, stress, and
massive changes that accompany it—is not easy. As a result, research
tends to show a rather sad pattern, but one worth examining nonetheless:
within a fairly short period of time (usually around two years) of having
children, parents typically report that their marital satisfaction declines
(Belsky & Rovine, 1990). Other factors influence marital satisfaction
among parents. For example, parents of high socioeconomic status are
more negatively affected by parenthood than low socioeconomic groups,
and younger parents, compared with people who have children at a later
age, also report lower marital satisfaction (Twenge et al., 2003). Marital
satisfaction is usually highest before the birth of the first child, then is
reduced until the children enter school (Cowan & Cowan, 1995; Shapiro
et al., 2000), and not uncommonly, remains low until the children actually
leave home as young adults themselves (Glenn, 1990). A major upside to
this pattern of findings, of course, is that older adults are often poised to
enjoy a rekindling of their relationship; their best years are still ahead of
them, and they can settle into enjoying their relatively free time together.
In fact, the notion of parents suffering in their empty nest once their
children leave home is largely a myth. Married older adults are just as
likely to report being “very satisfied” with marriage as newlyweds
(Rollins, 1989). Of course, some parents no doubt take a fresh look at
their relationship once it’s just the two of them again and discover they
no longer have anything in common or don’t even like each other that
much. But happily, the general trend is actually the opposite—couples
find their relationships flourishing again. So, there can be a lot of things
to look forward to as one gets older.

Late Adulthood
The pursuit of happiness is a common theme in contemporary society,

and certainly we can all relate to the desire to be happy. But how do we
go about achieving “happiness” as we age, and are we generally
successful?
Happiness and Relationships
One of the biggest benefits to growing older is that the emotional turmoil
of youth, with its dramatic ups and downs (passions, despair, anger, lust,
and all the rest), often gives way to a smoother, more emotionally stable,
and generally more positive experience. As a result, late adulthood is
often a particularly enjoyable time of life. The Buddhist monk Thich Nnat
Hanh has described youth as being like the chaotic mountain stream
tumbling down the mountainside, whereas old age is when the stream
has broadened into a serene river making the final leg of its journey to
the ocean.
Developmental psychologists describe a similar type of personal
development through the lens of socioemotional selectivity theory ,
which describes how older people have learned to select for themselves more
positive and nourishing experiences. Older people seem better able to pay
more attention to positive experiences, and tend to take part in activities

that emphasize positive emotions and sharing meaningful connections
with others (Carstensen et al., 1999). The net result of this wiser approach
to life is that negative emotions often decline with age, while positive
emotions actually increase in frequency (Figure 10.18 ). Simply put,
older people are (often) happier (Charles & Carstensen, 2009), which
definitely gives us something to look forward to!
Figure 10.18 Emotion, Memory, and Aging

Younger people have superior memory for whether they have seen
positive, negative, or neutral pictures compared with older people.
However, notice that younger people remember positive and negative
pictures equally, whereas older people are more likely to remember
positive pictures (Charles et al., 2003).
Source: Data from Carstensen, L. L., & Mikels, J. A. (2005). At the intersection of emotion and
cognition: Aging and the positivity effect. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 14(3) 117—121.
Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development describes the final stage,

spanning approximately 65 years and onward, as aging, the challenge of
ego integrity versus despair. During this time the older adult contemplates
whether they lived a full life and fulfilled major accomplishments, and can
now enjoy the support of their lifetime of relationships and social roles. In
contrast, if they only look back on disappointments and failures, this will
be a time of great personal struggle against feelings of despair and regret.
The full story of aging has a downside to it as well; it’s not all sunshine
and rainbows. Older people experience great challenges: the deaths of
their spouse and family members, the loss of close friends and
acquaintances, the fading of their physical capabilities, the loss of
personal freedoms such as driving or living without assistance, and
inevitable health challenges as the body ages. Existentially speaking,

older adults also must, sooner or later, face the growing awareness that
their time on this earth is drawing to a close. It doesn’t take a lot of
imagination to understand why younger people often assume that the
elderly are unhappy and depressed as they face the imminent “dying of
the light.” Certainly, depression and even suicide are not unknown to the
elderly, although contrary to the stereotype of the unhappy, lonely old

person, healthy older adults are no more likely to become depressed than
are younger people. The reality is that as long as basic emotional and
social needs are met, old age is often a very joyous time, again reflecting
the greater wisdom with which older adults approach the challenges of
their lives, making the best of things, focusing on what they can be
grateful for, and letting things go that are negative, as much as possible
(Charles & Carstensen, 2009). One of the key lessons that life teaches a
person is that many of the challenges they face carry their own rewards
and hidden benefits. In struggling to deal with the difficulties of life,

people often find that they grow in many ways, such as shifting their
priorities after realizing what really matters to them, feeling deeply

grateful for their close relationships, and feeling deeply motivated to live
authentically according to one’s own personal values and sense of what is

right (Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004). Older people therefore have ample
opportunities for personal growth, and it is important to respect how
much of the later years of life can be a supremely rich time for people to
invest in their own growth, learning, and practice. Even as death
approaches, the benefits to the elderly can be a deep enriching of the

gratitude they feel for being alive (Frias et al., 2011).
The Eventual Decline of Aging
Of course, every story has its ending, and as much as we might like to
avoid this topic, we also have to acknowledge that the later years of
adulthood are accompanied by a certain amount of decline. The body
declines and the mind eventually is not as sharp as it once was.
Researchers have examined this in great detail and found that the brain,
just like other physical systems, shows structural changes and some
functional decline with age. These changes include reduced volume of
white and grey matter of the cerebral cortex, as well as of the memory-
processing hippocampus (Allen et al., 2005). The prefrontal cortex and its
connections to subcortical regions are also hit hard by aging (Raz, 2000).
The reduced frontal lobe volume may explain why older adults
sometimes lose their train of thought and why they sometimes say things
that they wouldn’t have in the past (e.g., blunt comments, vulgarity).
Because it is now common for people to live well into their 80s and
beyond, these declines are ever more important to understand because

they have many implications for how well older adults will be able to
function in their everyday lives.
If you live well and/or are lucky, you can get pretty much to the end of a
natural lifespan with very little cognitive decline. However, there is a lot
of variability in how well people will age, neurologically speaking. The
negative end of the spectrum is anchored by various neurodegenerative
conditions. These are medical conditions of aging characterized by the
loss of nerve cells and nervous system functioning, which generally

worsen over time. Many older adults struggle with attending to the tasks
of everyday life, which may indicate the onset of dementia , a mild to
severe disruption of mental functioning, memory loss, disorientation, and poor
judgment and decision making. Approximately 14% of people older than 71
years of age have dementia.
Psych@
The Driver’s Seat
Thanks to technology, the current generation of elderly adults
faces issues that previous generations never did. Take driving,
for example. Many older adults depend on their cars to shop,
maintain a social life, and keep appointments. Research,
however, has shown that the cognitive and physical changes in
old age may take a toll on driving skill. This decline presents a
dilemma for many seniors and their families: How can
individuals maintain the independence afforded by driving
without endangering themselves and other drivers?
To address this problem, psychologist Karlene Ball developed
an intervention called Useful Field of View (UFOV) Speed of

Processing training (Ball & Owsley, 1993). UFOV uses computer-
based training exercises to increase the portion of the visual

field that adults can quickly process and respond to.
Laboratory studies show that UFOV actually increases the

speed of cognitive processing for older adults (Ball & Owsley,
2000). Brain imaging work has shown that UFOV training

enhances neural connections between regions involved in
executive function (cognitive control) and visual attention (Ross

et al., 2018). Records from several U.S. states that have studied
the UFOV show that drivers who completed the training were
half as likely to have had an accident during the study period.
Dr. Karlene Ball, who developed the Useful Field of View with
Dr. Daniel Roenker.
Courtesy of Dr Karlene Ball
Nearly 10% of cases of dementia involve the more severe Alzheimer’s
disease —a degenerative and terminal condition resulting in severe damage to

the entire brain. Alzheimer’s disease rarely appears before age 60, and it
usually lasts 7 to 10 years from onset to death (although some people

with Alzheimer’s live much longer). Early symptoms include forgetfulness
for recent events, poor judgment, and some mood and personality
changes. As the disease progresses, people experience severe confusion

and memory loss, eventually struggling to recognize even their closest
family members. In the most advanced stages of Alzheimer’s disease,

affected individuals may fail to recognize themselves and may lose
control of basic bodily processes such as bowel and bladder control.
What accounts for such extensive deterioration of cognitive abilities?
Alzheimer’s disease involves a buildup of proteins that clump together in
the spaces between neurons, interrupting their normal activity. These are
often referred to as plaques. Another type of protein tangles within nerve
cells, which severely disrupts their structural integrity and functioning
(Figure 10.19 ). These are often referred to as neurofibrillary tangles (or
simply as tangles). Many research groups are currently searching for

specific genes that are associated with Alzheimer’s disease.
Figure 10.19 How Alzheimer’s Disease Affects the Brain
Advanced Alzheimer’s disease is marked by significant loss of both grey

and white matter throughout the brain. The brain of a person with
Alzheimer’s disease typically has a large buildup of a protein called beta-
amyloid, which kills nerve cells. Also, tau proteins, which maintain the
structure of nerve cells, are often found to be defective in the Alzheimer’s
brain, resulting in neurofibrillary tangles.
Source: Based on information from National Institute of Aging. (2008). Part 2: What happens to
the brain in AD. In Alzheimer’s Disease: Unraveling the Mystery. U.S. Department of Health and
Human Services. NIH Publication No. 08-3782. Retrieved from www.nia.nih.gov/sites/default/
files/alzheimers_disease_unraveling_the_mystery_2.pdf
Alzheimer’s disease illustrates a worst-case scenario of the aging brain.

However, even in normal brains, structural changes occur that also cause
a variety of cognitive challenges that increase as the person gets older.
Aging and Cognitive Change
How does the normal aging process affect cognitive abilities such
as intelligence, learning, and memory? People commonly believe
that a loss of cognitive abilities is an inevitable part of aging, even
for those who do not develop dementia or Alzheimer’s disease.
However, the reality of aging and cognition is not so simple.
What do we know about cognitive abilities?

There are many different cognitive abilities, such as attention,
memory, problem solving, and language. One useful distinction
is made between cognitive tasks that involve processes such as
problem solving, reasoning, processing speed, and mental
flexibility; these tasks are said to involve fluid intelligence. Other
tasks tap into crystallized intelligence, which is based on
accumulated knowledge and skills (Module 9.2 ), such as
recognizing famous people like David Suzuki or Justin Bieber.
Although fluid intelligence reaches a peak during young
adulthood and then slowly declines, crystallized intelligence

remains largely intact into old age.
How can science explain age-related

differences in cognitive abilities?
Researchers have not yet fully solved the riddle of why some
cognitive abilities decline with age. There are many potential
explanations. Neurological studies of brain function suggest two
leading possibilities.
The first is that older adults sometimes use ineffective cognitive
strategies, leading to lower levels of activation of relevant brain
areas. This has been repeatedly found in various studies (e.g.,
Logan et al., 2002; Madden et al., 1996). Interestingly, it may be
possible to enhance neural function in older people simply by
reminding them to use effective strategies. For example, Logan
and her colleagues (2002) found that, compared to subjects in
their 20s, older subjects (in their 70s and 80s) performed worse
on a memory task and showed less activity in key frontal lobe
areas. However, by giving older adults strategies to help them
more deeply encode the information, older adults were able to

activate these brain areas to a greater extent, thus improving their
memories for the information. This work suggests that a key to
helping older adults resist the decline of their cognitive abilities is
to help them learn effective strategies for making better use of
their cognitive resources.
A second possible explanation for reduced cognitive abilities in
older people is that older brains show more general, non-specific

brain activation for a given task (Berlingeri et al., 2013; Cabeza,
2002). They may do so either because they are compensating for

deficits in one area by recruiting other areas, or possibly because
they are less capable of limiting activation to the appropriate,

specialized neural areas. Involving more widely distributed brain
areas in a given task would generally result in slower processing
speed, which could help to explain some of the cognitive deficits

(e.g., fluid intelligence) seen in older adults.
Can we critically evaluate our assumptions
about age-related cognitive changes?
Although older people show declines on laboratory tests of some
cognitive functions, we should guard against the stereotypic
assumption that the elderly are somehow less intellectually

capable than the rest of us. In most cultures and for most of
history, older people have been widely respected and honoured

as wisdom keepers for their communities. Respect for your elders
is, in fact, the historical norm, whereas modern Western society’s
tendency to disregard the perspectives of the elderly, assuming

that they are out of touch and their opinions are no longer
relevant, is the aberration.
The wisdom of elderly people is evident in their approach not

only to emotional well-being, as we discussed earlier in this
module, but also in how they deal with their own cognitive
abilities. In everyday life, as opposed to most laboratory tests, the

decline in cognitive abilities does not necessarily translate into
decline in practical skills, for at least two important reasons. The

first is that while the episodic and working memory systems may
not work as well, the procedural and semantic memory systems

show a much slower rate of decline with age (see Figure 10.20 ).
Thus, older people’s retention of practical skills and general

knowledge about the world remains largely intact for most of
their lives.
Figure 10.20 Memory and Aging

Several types of memory systems exist, not all of which are
equally affected by age. An older person’s ability to remember
events, such as words that appeared on a list (episodic memory),
is more likely to decline than his or her memory for facts and
concepts (semantic memory).
The second reason the elderly fare better than might be expected
from laboratory tests is that they learn to compensate for their
reduced raw cognitive power by using their abilities more
skillfully. For example, in a chess game, older players play as well
as young players, despite the fact that they cannot remember

chess positions as well as their young opponents. They
compensate for this reduction in working memory during a game
by more efficiently searching the chessboard for patterns
(Charness, 1981). Having more experience to draw upon in many

domains of life gives older people an advantage because they will
be better able to develop strategies that allow them to process
information more efficiently (Salthouse, 1987).

In a society that increasingly relegates its elderly to seniors’
residences, largely removing them from their families and the
larger community, it is important to remember that older people

actually retain their faculties much better than might be expected.
This is especially true for older adults who practise specific
cognition-enhancing behaviours. What keeps the aging brain
sharp? It’s pretty simple really, as researchers at the University of

Alberta and others have shown—staying physically active,
practising cognitively challenging activities (and they don’t have
to be crosswords and brain teaser puzzles; intrinsically enjoyable
hobbies work just fine), and remaining socially connected and
active (Small et al., 2012; Stine-Morrow, 2007). In addition, diets

low in saturated fats and rich in antioxidants, omega-3 fatty acids,
and B vitamins help to maintain cognitive functioning and neural
plasticity (Mattson, 2000; Molteni et al., 2002). As a society,
providing opportunities and resources for seniors to remain

active, socially engaged, and well-nourished will allow them to
enjoy high-quality lives well into old age.
Module 10.4 Summary
10.4a Know . . . the key terminology concerning adulthood and

aging.
Review Module 10.4
10.4b Know . . . the key areas of growth experienced by

emerging adults.
People making the transition from adolescence to adulthood face
substantial life challenges that contribute to personal growth in three

main areas: relationships (i.e., cultivating true intimacy and trust); new
possibilities (i.e., exploring what they really want to do with their lives
and choosing a compatible path that reflects their interests); and personal
strengths (i.e., the skills and competencies that come from successfully
facing challenges).
10.4c Understand . . . age-related disorders such as Alzheimer’s

disease.
Alzheimer’s disease is a form of dementia that is characterized by

significant decline in memory, cognition, and, eventually, basic bodily
functioning. It seems to be caused by two different brain abnormalities—
the buildup of proteins that clump together in the spaces between
neurons, plus degeneration of a structural protein that forms tangles
within nerve cells.
10.4d Understand . . . how cognitive abilities change with age.
Aging adults typically experience a general decline in cognitive abilities,

especially those related to fluid intelligence, such as working memory.
However, older adults also develop compensatory strategies that enable

them to remain highly functional in their daily lives, despite their slow
decline in processing capability.
10.4e Apply . . . your attitudes about marriage.
Apply Activity
As discussed in this module, attitudes about marriage can change over
time. Attitudes about marriage also vary by individual and culture. For
these reasons, researchers develop standardized scales for measuring

attitudes about marriage. Below is a modified version of Park and Rosén’s
(2013) General Attitudes Toward Marriage Scale. Total your score and
compare with others.
Rate the following statements on a 0-6 scale (0 = strongly disagree, 1 =

moderately disagree, 2 = slightly disagree, 3 = neither disagree or agree, 4
= slightly agree, 5 = moderately agree, 6 = strongly agree).
1. Marriage is beneficial.
2. I am not fearful of marriage.
3. People should marry.
4. I have no doubts about marriage.

5. Marriage is a “good idea.”
6. Marriage makes people happy.

7. Most marriages are happy situations.
8. Marriage is important.
10.4f Analyze . . . the stereotype that old age is a time of

unhappiness.
Research shows that older adults do face issues that might lead to
unhappiness—for example, health problems, loss of loved ones, and
reductions in personal freedom. However, such challenges often lead to

growth and a deepened appreciation for life and other people. The result
is that many older people become skilled at focusing on the positives of

life and pay less attention to the negatives, leading to an increase in life
satisfaction, rather than a decrease.

Chapter 11
Motivation and Emotion
11.1 Hunger and Eating
Physiological Aspects of Hunger
Psychological Aspects of Hunger
Disorders of Eating
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Effect of Media
Depictions of Beauty on Body Image
Module 11.1 Summary
11.2 Sex
Human Sexual Behaviour: Evolutionary Influences
Human Sexual Behaviour: Psychological Influences
Human Sexual Behaviour: Physiological Influences
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Sexual Orientation and
the Brain
Human Sexual Behaviour: Cultural Influences
Module 11.2 Summary
11.3 Social and Achievement Motivation
Belonging and Love Needs

Achievement Motivation
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Terror Management
Theory and the Need to Belong
Module 11.3 Summary
11.4 Emotion
Physiology of Emotion
Experiencing Emotions
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Two-Factor Theory
of Emotion
Expressing Emotions
Module 11.4 Summary

Module 11.1 Hunger and Eating
Satchan/Corbis/Bridge/Glow Images
11.1a Know . . . the key terminology of motivation and hunger.

11.1b Understand . . . the biological, cognitive, and social processes
that shape eating patterns.
11.1c Understand . . . the causes of common eating disorders.
11.1d Apply . . . your knowledge of hunger regulation to better
understand and evaluate your own eating patterns.
11.1e Analyze . . . the role of the media on people’s body image.
It was Janice’s first year of university. She’d made it through the first
three months of the semester with impressive grades, but was now
dealing with her first ever set of final exams. After a long afternoon of
studying history, Janice felt like she was starving. She walked over to
the cafeteria and was overwhelmed by the number of options. She saw a
friend eating a greasy pizza and immediately ordered one for herself
(but with a salad, which of course made the meal healthy). She finished
the enormous plate of food and felt like she couldn’t eat another bite.
She crawled back to the library and began studying for her chemistry
exam that was scheduled for the next morning. But, despite having just
eaten a large meal, Janice found herself munching on candy that she’d
snuck into the library (a guilty habit that was now as much a part of
studying as her textbooks). The more anxious she got about this exam,
the more she mindlessly moved the sugary snacks from their bag into
her mouth.
Janice’s experience shows us that eating isn’t just a simple behaviour we

use for survival. Hunger is a biological drive that influences what we
pay attention to and interacts with our past experiences and current
mental states such as excitement and anxiety. Hunger is a
psychological behaviour.
Although this module focuses on behaviours related to eating and
hunger, it also serves as an introduction to the concept of motivation.

Motivation  concerns the physiological and psychological processes
underlying the initiation of behaviours that direct organisms toward specific
goals. These initiating factors, or motives, can take many forms. They can
involve satisfying bodily needs such as drinking when you are thirsty, but
they can also include social behaviours such as seeking out other people
when you are lonely. The fact that you are reading Chapter 11  of a
university text shows you another type of motivation—you are likely

motivated to achieve academic success. In all of these cases, a behaviour
is being initiated in order to complete some sort of goal-directed
behaviour.
At its most basic level, motivation is essential to an individual’s survival

because it contributes to homeostasis , the body’s physiological processes
that allow it to maintain consistent internal states in response to the outer

environment (see Figure 11.1 ). For example, when the body’s water
levels fall below normal, cells release chemical compounds that maintain
the structure and fluid levels of cells. Receptors in the body respond to
the increased concentrations of these compounds, as well as to the lower

water volume, and send messages to the brain. The result is the sudden
awareness that you are thirsty, which motivates you to drink water. This
process is known as a drive , a biological trigger that tells us we may be

deprived of something and causes us to seek out what is needed, such as food or
water (Figure 11.2 ). The stimuli we seek out in order to reduce drives are
known as incentives . In this example, the incentive would be water;
however, in other modules, incentives will range from sex (see Module
11.2 ) to feeling like you belong, or even to a more abstract feeling of
reaching your potential as a human (see Module 11.3 ).
Figure 11.1 Maintaining Balance

The body detects that fluid levels are low and send signals to the brain
that motivate us to drink; once fluid levels are normal, this motivation
decreases. A pack of psychology professors are, of course, just out of view
in this photo, battling a group of Kenyans for third place.
Source: Mark Wilson/The Boston Globe/Getty Images
Figure 11.2 Drives and Incentives

Our motivation to reduce a drive, as well as our response to an incentive,
can lead to the same behaviour.
There are times, however, when our behaviours cannot be explained by a

desire to reach a state of homeostasis. Instead, our motivations are
influenced by an internal or external source of stress. Stress often leads us
to use more resources than we normally would. Stress is particularly

challenging to our homeostasis because it is difficult to predict how long
you will be in that energy-consuming state—you don’t schedule stress
into your day planner. As a result, our motivational systems have to make
a prediction about the resources that our bodies will require, and then
initiate motivational behaviours that will drive us to acquire those

resources. This process is known as allostasis , motivation that is not only
influenced by current needs, but also by the anticipation of future needs caused
by stress (Sterling, 2011).
To make the relationship between homeostasis and allostasis more

concrete, let’s think back to the example of Janice eating candy while
stressing out about her exams. The experience of anxiety used a lot of
Janice’s energy, as did the effort required to control her emotions. If

Janice didn’t increase her food consumption to meet these new energy
demands, her energy level would quickly dip below optimal levels. As a
result, her physical and mental well-being would then suffer. So, if Janice
were not stressed out, homeostasis would drive her toward consuming a
particular number of calories; however, allostasis—which involves the

influence of stress on homeostasis—would drive her to consume a greater
number of calories (and would be one reason why she was snacking).
Of course, our ability to predict our future needs is not perfect, which
explains why psychological variables (e.g., stress, desire to appear
attractive, the need to feel “in control”) can have such a strong influence
on behaviours like eating and drinking, which don’t seem “psychological”
at all. In this module, we will examine how these physical and
psychological factors influence our motivation to eat. We will also
examine how social factors can alter our eating habits in negative and
self-destructive ways.
Physiological Aspects of Hunger
Hunger is not simply a homeostatic mechanism. The need to consume

enough nutrients so that you have enough energy to function involves
physiological responses as well as more complex cognitive and emotional
factors (Dagher, 2012). The brain areas involved with these factors
interact with the brain areas that control our appetites.
The “on” and “off” switches involved in hunger can be found in a few
regions of the hypothalamus , a set of nuclei found on the bottom surface of
the brain that are involved in regulating motivation and homeostasis by
stimulating the release of hormones throughout the body. Researchers have
found that electrically stimulating the lateral hypothalamus causes rats to

begin to eat; thus, this structure may serve as an “on” switch (Delgado &
Anand, 1952; Stuber & Wise, 2016). In contrast, stimulating the
ventromedial hypothalamus causes rats to stop eating. Damaging the
ventromedial region removes the “off" switch in the brain. In lab animals,
this damage leads to obesity because the animals don’t stop eating
(Figure 11.3 ). A related area, the paraventricular nucleus of the
hypothalamus, also signals that it is time to stop eating by inhibiting the
lateral hypothalamus.
Figure 11.3 The Hypothalamus and Hunger

Source: From Weiten, W. (2013). Psychology, 9e. © 2013 South-Western, a part of Cengage
Learning, Inc. Reproduced by permission. www.cengage.com/permissions.
The activity of the hypothalamus is influenced by hormones that are
released in response to the energy needs of your body. So, your brain
influences your body and your body influences your brain! A key function
of the hypothalamus is to monitor blood chemistry for indicators of the

levels of sugars and hormones necessary for you to have enough energy
to function. For example, the hypothalamus detects changes in the level

of glucose , a sugar that serves as a primary energy source for the brain and
the rest of the body. Highly specialized neurons called glucostats can detect
glucose levels in the fluid outside of the cell. If these levels are too low,
glucostats signal the hypothalamus that energy supplies are low, leading
to increased hunger (Langhans, 1996a, 1996b). After food reaches the
stomach and intestines, sugars are absorbed into the bloodstream and are
transported throughout the body. Insulin, a hormone secreted by the
pancreas, helps cells store this circulating glucose for future use. As
insulin levels rise in response to consumption of a meal, hunger decreases
—but so do glucose levels, which, after a few hours, leads to hunger
again.
The rat on the left has swollen to enormous proportions after researchers
created lesions to its ventromedial hypothalamus. Compare it to the more
typical rat on the right.
Voisin/Phanie/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source
Of course, if our motivation to eat was based entirely on the relationship

between glucose and the hypothalamus, then our eating behaviours
would be quite simple: we’d consume whatever food was available until
our need for glucose was satisfied. We all know that is not the case.
Eating is influenced by a number of other factors, including the

characteristics of the available food and how much of it we have already
eaten.
Food and Reward
In the example that started this module, poor stressed-out Janice ate
pizza, salad, and candy. But humans evolved in environments in which
food was not this plentiful or rich in variety. Sometimes, after a successful
hunting expedition, food was abundant; however, at other times, food
was quite scarce. Humans quickly learned that the best strategy was to
“eat while you can” because there was no guarantee that another meal
would be forthcoming any time soon. And, given that we need a great
deal of energy to keep our bodies functioning properly, it would make
sense to consume fatty foods, a very rich source of energy. Over the
course of evolution, our bodies responded to this need with a number of

systems that made the consumption of high-energy foods pleasurable. In
other words, we developed bodies that were hard-wired to like some
foods more than others.
Imagine eating poutine, Québec’s cardiovascular equivalent of Russian

roulette. It’s clearly bad for you (there is no diet poutine), yet people still
enthusiastically eat it. Indeed, some of the most popular foods in Canada
are loaded with fats, including red meat, cheese, ice cream, and anything
deep-fried. Psychologists and neuroscientists are discovering why people
can be so driven to consume these and other fattening foods. Scientists
suggest that we crave fats because we have specialized receptors on the
tongue that are sensitive to the fat content of food. Research with animals
shows that these receptors send messages to the brain that stimulate the
release of endorphins and dopamine, both of which are responsible for

the subjective sense of pleasure and reward (Mizushige et al., 2007).
Similar results were found in brain imaging studies with human
participants (Rolls, 2010). In one study, participants had their brains
scanned while they tasted various substances. At different times, the
participants tasted either a fatty solution (vegetable oil), sucrose (a sweet
taste), or a tasteless control substance. Brain activity was recorded while
these different taste stimuli were delivered in liquefied form into the
mouths of the participants through a small plastic tube. The participants
were also asked to rate the pleasantness of each stimulus. Overall, the
participants rated the fatty substance favourably, and the brain scans
showed activity in regions of the brain associated with pleasure
sensations when they tasted fat (de Araujo & Rolls, 2004; see Figure
11.4 ).
Figure 11.4 The Pleasure of Taste
When fat receptors of the tongue are stimulated, the cingulate cortex—a
region of the brain involved in emotional processing—is activated. The
orbitofrontal cortex is involved in linking food taste and texture with
reward. Interestingly, activity in this region, along with reward centres in
the basal ganglia, decreases when we are no longer motivated to eat.
In some situations, high-energy food can be a more powerful reinforcer
than highly addictive drugs (Christensen et al., 2008). Some people even
report cravings for a sugar fix—a term that seems to imply that addiction
to candy and chocolate bars is comparable to an addiction to a drug like
heroin. The phrase sugar fix may seem an exaggeration, but is it possible
that sugar actually does act like a drug? Sugar and some addictive drugs
share at least two interesting similarities. First, recreational drugs and

sugary foods can both be described as supernormal stimuli—the stimuli are
more intense than our bodies evolved to typically experience (Tinbergen,
1989). As an example, compare the sugar levels found in fruit and

artificial foods like chocolate bars or jelly beans. Artificial foods are often
much more intense. Second, ordinary sucrose—plain white granulated

sugar—can stimulate release of the neurotransmitter dopamine in the
nucleus accumbens, a brain region associated with the reinforcing effects

of substances such as amphetamines and cocaine (Rada et al., 2005; see
Module 5.3 ).
Dopamine plays a role in a number of eating-related behaviours. Our

cravings for food, as well as our feeling of satisfaction when we taste this
food, both lead to dopamine release. But dopamine plays an additional
role in the motivation to eat. When food reaches our stomachs, dopamine
is again released, this time in areas of the cortex related to higher
cognitive functions (Thanarajah et al., 2018). This reaction suggests that

food can lead to two different reward responses—one when we taste a
food and one when we are digesting it.

Cells in the orbitofrontal cortex respond to perceptual qualities of food
texture, such as the difference between a runny spaghetti sauce and a
thick one.
Michele Cozzolino/Shutterstock
Of course, the reward value of food is also influenced by how much of it

we have consumed—even the most stressed-out student will stop eating
eventually. Indeed, we have all experienced the feeling of being “full.” A

full stomach is one cue for satiation —the point in a meal when we are no
longer motivated to eat. That feeling is caused, in part, by cholecystokinin
(mercifully abbreviated to CCK) (Badman & Flier, 2005). Neurons release
CCK when the intestines expand. The ventromedial hypothalamus

receives this information and decreases appetite. Scientists at the
Montreal Neurological Institute used neuroimaging to investigate how
satiation and the reward value of food might be linked. These researchers
scanned people’s brains while feeding them pieces of chocolate. At first,

the participants rated the chocolate as being quite tasty and pleasurable;
this led to activity in reward centres in the orbitofrontal cortex (the part of
the frontal lobes just above your eyes) and basal ganglia (Small et al.,
2001). Activity was also found in the insula, which receives information
about taste. But after participants had consumed several pieces of
chocolate, this formerly pleasurable food became less appealing (i.e., they
became “sick of it”). Interestingly, as participants’ ratings of the chocolate
became more negative, the activity in reward centres decreased. This
study shows us that our physiological and psychological motivations to
eat influence each other.
Psychological Aspects of Hunger
The previous section of this module described a number of biological

influences on our motivation to eat. In this section of the module, we
highlight cognitive and social factors that affect this important behaviour.
Eating and Cognition
The quantity of food that we eat is not entirely controlled by the brain or
by evolutionary mechanisms. We are also influenced by cognitive factors
that affect our perceptual judgments and decision making. One example
of a cognitive influence on eating is the unit bias , the tendency to assume
that the unit of sale or portioning is an appropriate amount to consume. In

some cases, this assumption works well. A single banana comes
individually wrapped and makes for a healthy portion; it is an ideal unit
(Geier et al., 2006). In contrast, packaged foods often come in sizes that
are too large to be healthy. A bottle of pop today is likely to be 600 mL,
but a few decades ago the same brand came in a 177 mL bottle. Despite
the huge difference in volume, each is seen as constituting one unit of
pop. As a consequence, you are now likely to consume more than three
times as much pop in one sitting as your grandparents would have.

Compare a modern soft drink serving (top) to the historical serving size
(bottom). Despite the massive increase in volume, modern consumers
still consider the unit of packaging as a normal-sized serving.
Top: Image Source/Corbis; bottom: Akg-images/Newscom
This expansion of portion sizes—and waistlines—is being felt worldwide.

As North-American-style fast-food chains expand into Asia, the
prevalence of diabetes has increased (Pan et al., 2012). This trend is likely
why some countries limit portion sizes and others, such as France, require
all fast-food chains and snack products to have warning labels.
Psychologists have also found that focusing attention on the moment-by-
moment experience of eating can affect how much we consume. People

who use this mindful eating technique engage in less impulsive eating and
choose healthier snacks (Jordan et al., 2014). These interventions are
specifically designed to combat the attentional and cognitive factors that

motivate us to eat too much.
Eating and the Social Context
In addition to physiological and cognitive influences, food intake is
affected by social motives as well. Have you ever gone to a party feeling
not a hint of hunger, yet spent the first hour sampling each of the snacks
laid out on the dining room table because you were nervous and didn’t
know what else to do with yourself? Whether the presence of other

people increases or decreases our motivation to eat is influenced by the
social situation (Herman, 2015). Here are a few examples:
Social facilitation: Eating more. Dinner hosts (and grandmothers) may
encourage guests to take second and even third helpings, and

individuals with a reputation for big appetites will be prodded to eat
the most. Perhaps the strongest element of social facilitation is just
the time spent at the table: The longer a person sits socializing, the
more likely he or she is to continue nibbling (Berry et al., 1985).
Impression management: Eating less. Sometimes people self-consciously

control their behaviour so that others will see them in a certain way—
a phenomenon known as impression management. For example, you
probably know that it is polite to chew with your mouth closed.
Similarly, the minimal eating norm suggests that another aspect of
good manners—at least in some social and cultural settings—is to eat
small amounts to avoid seeming rude (Herman et al., 2003).
Modelling: Eating whatever they eat. At first exposure to a situation,
such as a business dinner, a new employee may notice that no one
eats much and everyone takes their time. The newcomer will see the
others as models, and so they too will restrain their eating. Later, the
person may drop by a friend’s family reunion where everyone is
having a second or third helping and undoing their belts so their
stomachs can expand more. In this case, the person will be likely to
eat more, even if they are already feeling full (Herman et al., 2003).
Clearly, eating is not just a matter of maintaining homeostasis. It is best
described as a behaviour motivated by biological, cognitive, and social
psychological factors.
Disorders of Eating
Our dietary habits are influenced by biological dispositions, our beliefs

and perceptions about eating and our bodies, as well as sociocultural
factors. Unfortunately, these motivational systems do not always lead us
to good health. The past few decades have seen a dramatic rise in the
rates of obesity , a disorder of positive energy balance, in which energy intake

exceeds energy expenditure. Indeed, over the last 15 years, surveys have
consistently shown that approximately 60% of males and 45% of females
are overweight or obese (extremely overweight; Statistics Canada, 2016).
However, in some individuals, hunger-related motivations move in the
opposite direction—leading them to under-eat. While skipping dessert at
Dairy Queen might not be a bad idea, avoiding or restricting the

consumption of healthy food is obviously problematic. In the next
section, we discuss some of the motivations underlying disorders
affecting the motivation to eat.

Anorexia and Bulimia
Approximately 1.5% of Canadian females aged 15 to 24 have some form
of eating disorder (Government of Canada, 2006). The two most common
forms of eating disorders are anorexia nervosa and bulimia (see Table
11.1 ). Anorexia nervosa  is an eating disorder that involves (1) self-
starvation, (2) intense fear of weight gain and dissatisfaction with one’s body,
and (3) denial of the serious consequences of severely low weight. In contrast,
bulimia nervosa  is an eating disorder that is characterized by periods of food
deprivation, binge-eating, and purging. The periods of binging involve short
bursts of intense calorie consumption. These are followed by purging
(generally self-induced vomiting), fasting, laxative or diuretic use, and/or

intense exercise. Both disorders usually occur during mid to late
adolescence and have been on the rise since the 20th century. They are
frequently diagnosed alongside mood or anxiety disorders (Hudson et al.,
2007).
Table 11.1 Statistical Characteristics of Eating Disorders

The incidence of eating disorders in Canadians is similar to that of other
Western nations. To put these numbers into a global perspective, a 2004
study found that the incidence rate of anorexia varied from 0.1% to 5.3%
in females in Western countries (no male data were available). Bulimia
rates ranged from 0.3% to 7.3% (Norway) in females in Western countries
and from 0.46% to 3.2% in non-Western countries (Makino et al., 2004).
Thanks to researchers working with government agencies, prevention
programs are now in place in all Western and most non-Western
countries.
Source: Data from Hudson, J., Hiripi, E., Pope, H., & Kessler, R. (2007). The prevalence and
correlates of eating disorders in the National Comorbidity Survey replication. Biological Psychiatry,
61, 348–358.
Studies of these disorders have found that bulimia is marked by a

tendency to be impulsive, whereas anorexia is not (Matsunaga et al.,
2000). Bulimics are also much more likely to enter treatment programs
because they find the binge–purge cycle disturbing. Anorexics, on the
other hand, often appear indifferent to the negative effects of food

deprivation on their health (Polivy & Herman, 2002). Although there are
clear differences between anorexia and bulimia, both involve changes in

the motivation to eat and both are dangerous. A critical question, then, is:
Why do eating disorders develop in some people but not others?
One factor is stress. Patients with eating disorders report greater levels of
premorbid (before the disorder began) life stress than do age- and
gender-matched individuals without eating disorders (Schmidt et al.,
1997). These life stresses tend to make people feel as though they have no
control over their lives. However, stress alone isn’t enough to create an
eating disorder. Instead, the perceived loss of control interacts with
psychological variables such as depression, guilt, anxiety, and

perfectionism (Vohs et al., 1999); low self-esteem (Button et al., 1996);
and/or suppressed anger (Geller et al., 2000). This combination of stress

and psychological vulnerability dramatically increases the chances of
developing an eating disorder (Ball & Lee, 2002; Raffi et al., 2000).
There are also a number of social factors that can lead to eating disorders.
Peer influence is often viewed as the number-one cause of these
conditions (Stice, 1998). Adolescents, particularly females, learn attitudes

and behaviours from their friends. This learning comes in the form of
examples and encouragement, as well as from teasing and nasty remarks
when an individual doesn’t live up to the idealized (thin) standards

depicted in the media (Levine et al., 1994). In fact, numerous proanorexia
websites have emerged over the past decade, offering “thinspiration” for
people engaging in extreme dieting. Similar messages now appear on
social media sites such as Pinterest and Reddit. By posting photographs

and messages on these sites, individuals with eating disorders create a
much larger peer group than before, making dangerous eating disorders
seem normal. This is a worrisome trend.
Families are also a major influence on individuals with eating disorders.

They often compliment anorexic girls for being slim and praise their self-
control. This serves as a source of reinforcement for the eating disorder

(Branch & Eurman, 1980). Bulimic patients reported that their families
were competitive, prone to jealousy, and tended to intrude in each other’s
lives (Rorty et al., 2000). Importantly, adolescent girls whose families

allow them to have some autonomy (i.e., control over their own lives)
tend to have lower rates of eating disorders, suggesting that control is a
major factor in these conditions (Polivy & Herman, 2002).
So, how do stress, peer pressure, and family issues lead to eating
disorders? Researchers suggest that some people use eating disorders as a
coping mechanism to deal with their difficult-to-control lives (Troop,

1998). By making weight and eating the primary focus of their lives,
individuals gain some feelings of security (both physical and emotional)
as well as a feeling of being in control of some aspect of their life. Indeed,
after binging in the laboratory, individuals with bulimia reported feeling
less anxiety, tension, and guilt, although feelings of depression remained

the same (Kaye et al., 1986). In contrast, when these feelings of control
are reduced, studies have shown that individuals with eating disorders
become more pessimistic and report feeling fatter than before (Waller &
Hodgson, 1996).
Evolutionary psychologists have suggested that this need for control

extends to the woman’s reproductive system as well. The reproduction
suppression hypothesis states that females who believe they have low
levels of social support from romantic partners and family members are
more likely to engage in dieting behaviour (Juda et al., 2004). This change
in food intake can influence ovulation (Frisch & Barbieri, 2002) and lead
to a loss of menstrual periods (amenorrhea), making it less likely that the
woman will become pregnant. Such data again suggest that eating
disorders are an attempt to gain control over complex and stressful lives
(Wasser & Barash, 1983).
People with anorexia experience severely distorted views of their body.
Although dangerously underweight, they continue to both feel fat and
fear being fat. Both males and females may become anorexic.
Ken McKay/Shutterstock
Males, although less prone to these problems than females, also develop
eating disorders. Adolescents and young men may starve themselves
during periods of high exercise to lose weight and achieve muscle mass
(Ricciardelli & McCabe, 2004). Ironically, although they have positive

views of their own bodies, these men with “reverse anorexia” are just as
obsessive and perfectionistic about their bodies as people with anorexia
(Davis & Scott-Robertson, 2000). And both groups are particularly
sensitive to media depictions of “perfect bodies” that, for almost
everybody, are unattainable.
The Effect of Media Depictions of Beauty on

Body Image
One concern regarding eating disorders is the role that culture
and the media play in their onset. Specifically, people with

regular exposure to Western culture are more likely to develop
bulimia than members of cultures without such exposure (Keel &
Klump, 2003).
What do we know about the effect of media

depictions of beauty on body image?
We often don’t critically analyze the effects that media depictions
of beauty can have on people, particularly on sensitive teenagers.
In the 1950s, Marilyn Monroe—who was busty and had big hips—
was considered gorgeous. Today, A-list actresses are pressured to
have body shapes that are virtually impossible to achieve: a very
thin body and large breasts. Failure to meet this standard will
lead to mockery in magazines and on gossip websites. The result
is that people who are not unnaturally thin may view their bodies
as being ugly. But do these media depictions of “perfection”
influence how girls and women view themselves?
How can science explain the effect of the

media on people’s body image?
The average North American woman is 163 cm (5ʹ9˝) and weighs
64 kg (140 lb); the average model is 180 cm (5ʹ11˝) and weighs 53
kg (117 lb) (National [U.S.] Eating Disorders Association, 2002).
Studies have shown that increased exposure to media (TV,
magazines, internet) is related to decreased satisfaction with a
person’s body (Hofschire & Greenberg, 2002), particularly in
people whose self-esteem is based on meeting socially defined
standards (Williams et al., 2014). It is also related to a greater
internalization of the slender ideal for female body shape (Stice
& Shaw, 1994). Researchers at Wilfrid Laurier University found

that females were more likely to compare themselves to
unrealistic popular culture figures than were men when they
were describing their own bodies; they did not do so when
describing their social skills (Strahan et al., 2006). When the
prominence of cultural norms was increased, all participants
(female and male) were more likely to compare themselves with
a model and felt worse after doing so. These results suggest that
women are more consistently exposed to media depictions of
“perfect bodies,” but that men are also sensitive to these

pressures. In a follow-up study, female participants were exposed
either to commercials containing attractive and thin women or to

neutral stimuli. The results indicated that viewing media
depictions of beauty decreased women’s satisfaction with their

own bodies and made them more concerned with what other
people thought of them (Strahan et al., 2008).

It is easy to say that participants in psychology studies are simply
answering the way they think the experimenter wants them to.
However, the studies just described are consistent with brain
imaging data as well (Donnelly et al., 2018). Individuals with

anorexia showed increased activity in the amygdala, a brain area
related to fear and emotional arousal, when they were shown
negative words related to body image; neutral words did not
have this effect (Miyake et al., 2010). Women with bulimia had
greater levels of activity in medial frontal lobe regions related to
emotional processing during the viewing of overweight as

opposed to thin bodies; non-bulimic women did not show this
activity. Finally, when women with eating disorders were shown

images comparing themselves to idealized (model) bodies, the
insula—a brain region related to disgust—fired (Friederich et al.,
2010). Together, these studies corroborate the questionnaire-

based results that idealized media depictions of beauty have
negative emotional consequences on vulnerable individuals.

Understanding the relationship between the media and disorders
of body image allows teachers, parents, and healthcare
practitioners to design programs to help image-conscious

individuals. In Canada, several programs are now in place that
aim to teach people how to deal with social pressures and to have
a realistic body image (McVey et al., 2009; Yuile & McVey, 2009).
Importantly, knowledge about media influences can reduce its
effects. When public school students completed activities that

contested the idea that women needed to be thin and beautiful
and men needed to be tall and muscular in order to succeed, the

influence of media depictions decreased substantially (Strahan et
al., 2008). Not everyone needs to keep up with the Kardashians.

Module 11.1 Summary
11.1a Know . . . the key terminology of motivation and hunger.
Review Module 11.1
11.1b Understand . . . the biological, cognitive, and social

processes that shape eating patterns.
Energy is delivered through the bloodstream in the form of glucose found
in food. The hormone insulin helps the cells throughout the body store
this fuel. CCK signals fullness (satiety). These substances are monitored
by the hypothalamus, which signals hunger when not enough glucose is
available to the cells. You should also have an understanding of the
effects of psychological cues, such as the unit bias, as well as social cues,
such as the minimal eating norm.
11.1c Understand . . . the causes of common eating disorders.
This module discussed issues related to anorexia and bulimia, both of
which involve periods of self-starvation and a fear of gaining weight.

Bulimia also includes purging, such as through vomiting or the use of
laxatives. Stress, peer pressure, and idealized depictions of beauty all
influence the prevalence of eating disorders. It is likely that many people
with eating disorders are attempting to establish a feeling of control over
some aspect(s) of their lives.
11.1d Apply . . . your knowledge of hunger regulation to better

understand and evaluate your own eating patterns.
Do you finish an entire package of a food item, as the minimal eating
norm would suggest? Or do you check to ensure you are getting an

appropriate serving size? Try this activity to find out exactly how you eat.
Apply Activity
Starting first thing tomorrow, keep a food diary for the next three days.
Record everything you eat over this period, including when you ate, what
you ate, and what made you feel like eating. It is important to be honest
with yourself and to be reflective: Did you eat because your stomach
rumbled, because you were craving something, or perhaps because the
food was just there? It is okay to list more than one reason for each entry
in your food diary. At the end of the three-day period, tally how often
each reason for eating appeared in your diary. Make note of what
proportion of the time you ate for each reason. Ask yourself: Are the
results surprising? Do they make you want to think more about the
reasons you eat? (Note: You can also try to work from memory and
recreate a food diary from the past three or four days, but the results
might not be as accurate.)
11.1e Analyze . . . the role of the media on people’s body image.
A number of studies using a variety of methodologies—questionnaires
and brain scanning—have shown that the media’s idealized depictions of

beauty have a negative influence on people’s body image (and
happiness). With this knowledge, you should be able to identify these

misrepresentations of what a normal body should look like, to recognize
that the motivation to eat is important, and to see that beauty is not
necessarily Size 2.
Module 11.2 Sex
PCHT/Shutterstock
11.2a Know. . . the key terminology associated with sexual motivation.
11.2b Understand . . . similarities and differences in sexual responses
in men and women.
11.2c Apply . . . your understanding of sex and technology to examine
your attitudes toward different forms of digital and online sexual
activity.
11.2d Analyze . . . different explanations for what determines sexual
orientation.
Calvin Coolidge was President of the United States from 1923 to 1929.
He was known as a quiet man (“Silent Cal”) who had a very dry sense
of humour. However, even shy and reserved politicians need to attend
social functions and meet constituents. On one of these occasions,
President Coolidge and his wife were given separate tours of an
experimental government farm. During her tour, Mrs. Coolidge noticed
that a particular rooster was mating quite frequently. When she asked
the farmer about this, he stated that the rooster mated dozens of times
each day. Mrs. Coolidge then replied, “Tell that to the President when he
comes by.” When told this, President Coolidge asked if the rooster was
mating with the same hen each time. The farmer replied that the rooster
was mating with a number of different hens. President Coolidge then

said, “Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge.” Based upon this story, the tendency
for males to show renewed sexual interest when a new female becomes
available is now known as the Coolidge Effect .
Of course, novelty is only one reason why individuals would engage in

sexual behaviour. In this module, we will examine evolutionary,
psychological, physiological, and sociocultural factors that influence

our motivation for sex.
Imagine seeing an attractive person walking along the beach, a toned
body glistening in the hot summer sun. Then you and the object of your
desire make eye contact and it is clear that the interest is mutual. Your
initial response might seem like a white-hot biological drive. This is your
libido —the motivation for sexual activity and pleasure. But whether you
immediately act on this motivation is dependent upon a number of
factors, not just “hotness.” As researchers delve into the complex topic of
sexual behaviour, it is becoming increasingly clear that our motivations
are shaped by evolutionary, physiological, psychological, and social
factors, and that these factors interact with each other differently in
different people.
Human Sexual Behaviour: Evolutionary
Influences
One of the primary goals of most organisms is to pass on their genetic
material to the next generation—in other words, to breed. In many
species, including humans, this is accomplished through sex. The big
question, then, is what factors influence whether an individual gets to act
on this motivation for sex? According to the theory of natural selection

(see Module 3.1 ), individuals with traits that are are a good fit for their
environment are more likely to survive and therefore to reproduce. The
question is, how do these individuals let others know that they possess
these traits?
Sexual Selection and Evolution
In some species, members of one sex (usually males) compete for access
to the other sex (usually females). For instance, some animals, deer and
caribou for example, literally lock horns in violent fights known as rutting.
The winner of the fight is much more likely to mate with females than is
the loser. Similar examples occur in many primate species. Here, a

dominant male—often referred to as the alpha male—intimidates other
males and is more likely to mate with multiple females than are the
subordinate males. These are examples of intrasexual selection , a
situation in which members of the same sex compete in order to win the
opportunity to mate with members of the opposite sex. Intrasexual selection is

evolutionarily advantageous because the animals most likely to become
dominant are the strongest and/or smartest, and therefore the most fit for
that time and place. If this trend continues across many generations, the
species as a whole will become stronger and smarter (i.e., more
evolutionarily “fit”).
A second form of sexual selection is known as intersexual selection , a
situation in which members of one sex select a mating partner based on their
desirable traits. In the animal kingdom, we see numerous examples of
males attempting to attract the attention of females. For instance, many
male birds display bright feathers and perform intricate dances or songs
to attract females. This might seem cute, but this has a darker function as
well. Brightly coloured birds must be fast and aware of their surroundings
(i.e., evolutionarily fit). Otherwise, that glorious plumage, which also

attracts predators, would turn them into someone’s lunch rather than into
someone’s mate. Therefore, the brightly coloured birds that do survive
must have physical and mental characteristics that should be passed on to
future generations.
Humans also have characteristics that enhance mating success. On
average, heterosexual women prefer men who are taller (1.83 m or 6’0),
with good posture, and who are not very hairy (Buss, 2003; Dixson et al.,
2010). Heterosexual men prefer women who are slightly shorter than
them, have full lips, high cheekbones, and a small chin. A number of
experiments have shown that people rate symmetrical faces as being
more attractive than asymmetrical faces (Gangestad et al., 1994; Rhodes,
2006). Overall, people tend to prefer partners who appear healthy. An
evolutionary psychologist would suggest that such individuals would also
be more likely to be fertile and to possess good genes.
Facial Symmetry and Attraction Which face do you prefer of these five?
You likely chose the middle face because it has the highest level of
symmetry. People can detect this quality without even having to study the
faces very closely.
The University of Western Australia
Importantly, not all elements of intersexual selection are the gift (or
curse) of our genes. Men often present cues that highlight their
masculinity, such as wearing clothes that display their muscles. They also
attempt to appear large and athletic, particularly when around potential
mates. For example, if an attractive woman walks by a group of men, they

tend to stand up straight to appear taller and healthier, and thus more
attractive (this makes for wonderful people-watching at bars).

Evolutionary psychologists suggest that this behaviour is an attempt to
appear more genetically fit than their competitors; doing so would

suggest to potential mates that their offspring would be similarly fit.
Women also attempt to highlight attractive elements of their physique
with body posture and clothing. Of course, there are other qualities we
look for in a potential partner, particularly when it comes to long-term
mates.
Parental Investment and Sexual Selection
In the late 1980s, David Buss, a researcher at the University of Texas at
Austin, conducted a survey of more than 10 000 people from 37 different
cultures to discover what they most valued in a long-term partner (Buss,
1989). Across this broad sample, both men and women agreed that love,
kindness, commitment, character, and emotional maturity were

important. However, there were some interesting differences. Women
valued men with strong financial prospects, status, and good health;
whereas men placed a greater emphasis on physical beauty, youth, and
other characteristics that relate to reproduction.
Other investigators have found similar sex differences (see Figure 11.5 ).
Researchers in the United States showed yearbook photographs to
heterosexual male and female research participants. Along with the
photographs, participants were provided with information about each
individual’s socioeconomic status (SES), a measure of their financial

status. SES had a much greater effect on females’ willingness to enter
relationships with these individuals than it did for males (Townsend &
Levy, 1990b). In a subsequent study, these researchers controlled for
differences in physical features by photographing models three times
each, with these pictures differing only by clothing. Thus, participants
could see a single model in an outfit that implied high, medium, or low
SES. Participants were asked to rate their willingness to engage in
different types of relationships with this person, ranging from “Coffee and
conversation” to “Sex only” to “Marriage.” Clothing, the indicator of SES,

had a much larger effect on females than males, particularly when the
model was not physically attractive. Men were much more willing to
engage in “Sex only” relationships regardless of SES or attractiveness
(Townsend & Levy, 1990a).
Figure 11.5
Sex Differences in the Minimum Accepted Earning Level of Different Types of Relationships
Females place a much higher value on economic stability than do males,

particularly for long-term relationships. This result may be due to the fact
that females can produce a limited number of offspring and therefore
need to ensure that a mater has enough resources to ensure their
survival. Evolutionary psychology is not necessarily romantic.
Source: From Kenrik, D.T., Sadalla, E.K., Groth, G., & Torst, M.R. Evolution, traits and the stages
of human courtship: Qualifying the parental investment model. Journal of Personality, 58, 97-11. ©
1990 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. Reproduced with permission of John Wiley & Sons.
How can we explain this difference? According to evolutionary

psychologists, this difference might be due to the resources required to
raise offspring. Females have a limited number of eggs, and thus a finite
number of opportunities to pass on their genes to another generation. If a
female became pregnant and had a baby, she would require resources to
help raise the child, particularly when the child is quite young and it is
difficult for the woman to bring in her own resources. Therefore, it would
make sense that females would be attracted to males who can provide
these resources; this sometimes means mating with someone who is
older and more established in life (Trivers, 1972). In contrast, men have a
seemingly infinite amount of sperm and have fewer limits on the number
of people they could theoretically impregnate. Given that their
evolutionary impulse is to pass on their genes to as many offspring as

possible, it makes sense for them to be attracted to young, healthy
women who are likely able to reproduce (Buss, 1989). Oddly, these
motivations don’t appear in many love songs.
Human Sexual Behaviour: Psychological
Influences
Although its main evolutionary purpose is reproduction, sexual
motivation is actually expressed in many different ways. Sexual themes
are common in television, movies, video games, humour, advertising, and
other media, and discussions of sex and sexuality influence social life,
school, and the workplace. But it is also one of the most challenging
topics to study. Sex generally happens in private, and many people prefer
to keep it that way. Nonetheless, psychologists use a variety of methods
to understand the complexities of human sexual behaviour. When
attempting to examine attitudes and psychological motivations for sex,
researchers tend to rely on nonintrusive techniques such as interviews

and questionnaires.
Interview Assessments of Sexual Motivation
One of the first scientists to tackle the topic of human sexual behaviour
was zoology professor Alfred Kinsey. Kinsey began his research on
human sexuality by interviewing his students about their sexual histories.
Between 1938 and 1952, Kinsey and his colleagues at Indiana University
interviewed thousands of people and published their results in a pair of

books known informally as the Kinsey Reports (1948, 1953). By modern
standards, Kinsey’s methods were quite flawed and rather controversial.
Kinsey tended to make sweeping generalizations about his findings that
were based on very limited samples. Despite these practices, Kinsey’s
work on sexuality continues to influence discussion on sexual behaviour

and motivation.
The fact that Kinsey dared to apply science to sexuality was offensive to
many people at the time. During an era when the phrase sexual
orientation did not even exist, Kinsey reported that 37% of the males
whom he interviewed had at least one homosexual experience resulting
in orgasm; this was absolutely shocking at the time. (The corresponding
figure for females in his studies was 13%.) Contrary to the conventional
thinking of his time, Kinsey believed that heterosexuality and
homosexuality fell on a continuous scale, an idea that remains with us
today.
Alfred Kinsey’s research into sexual behaviours paved the way for future
generations of scientists to study sexual motivation. Can you think of
some modern research tools that weren’t available during Kinsey’s time?
AP/Shutterstock
Survey Studies of Sexual Motivation
It is important to note that the methods for studying sexual behaviour
have changed since Kinsey conducted his groundbreaking investigations.
Extensive interviews have been largely replaced with anonymously
completed questionnaires that encourage participants to provide more
candid responses. Studies also include larger and more representative

samples. For example, psychologists Cindy Meston and David Buss asked
more than 1500 U.S. college students to identify their reasons for having
sex. As you can see in Figure 11.6 , physical, personal, and social factors
underlie sexual motivation.
Figure 11.6 Why Have Sex?

Self-reported reasons for having sex by undergraduate students (Meston
& Buss, 2007).
Anna Khomulo/Fotolia
For the respondents in Meston and Buss’s study, physical reasons were
related to the pleasure of the sex itself. Many respondents used sex for
what might be described as instrumental reasons—sex was a means of
accomplishing a goal such as financial or personal gain, or revenge.

Students were also motivated by emotional reasons and because of
feelings of insecurity (although there is little evidence to suggest that sex

leads to any long-term improvements in this regard). Reproduction, the
key evolutionary motivation for sex, ranked very far down the list.
Sexual motivation is also tied to relationship context. A study conducted
at the University of Ottawa found that females are more motivated by
physical pleasure when seeking out short-term relationships, but are

motivated by emotional factors when seeking out long-term relationships
(Armstrong & Reissing, 2015). This pattern occurred for women across
the continuum of sexual orientation. You can evaluate your own attitudes
about sex and compare them with others by completing the activity in
Table 11.2 .
Table 11.2 Attitudes toward Sex Survey
Age is also a factor in sexual motivation. Although young people don’t

typically associate older individuals with sex (Thompson et al., 2014),
survey studies show that almost three-fourths of the 57- to 64-year-old
respondents reported sexual contact with a partner in the past year, as

did half of the 64- to 75-year-olds and one-fourth of the 75- to 85-year-old
respondents (Lindau et al., 2007). While these numbers aren’t at the level
of sexual activity of average university students, they do show that the
motivation to have sex continues throughout the lifetime. It is also worth
noting that surveys indicate that the sexual motives of middle-aged
women are the same as women aged 18 to 22 years: pleasure, love, and
commitment (Meston et al., 2009).
The survey and interview methods discussed to this point have provided
a rich set of data about human sexuality. Other researchers have
approached this topic from a biological standpoint by looking at the
physiological and brain basis of sexual motivation (Pfaus et al., 2012), a
topic we will consider in the next section of this module.

Human Sexual Behaviour: Physiological
Influences
Our physiological and psychological motives for having sex are not
separate. Sexual arousal (a biological state) can influence what we pay
attention to and how we respond to it. In other words, it can influence
our feelings of desire (Pfaus & Scepkowski, 2005). Although several
decades of research have helped identify many of the biological processes

associated with sexual motivation, it is important to remember that all of
these physiological responses are influenced by a person’s psychological
state.
Physiological Measures of Sex
William Masters and Virginia Johnson performed some of the earliest
studies of sexual behaviour in the 1950s. These researchers described the
human sexual response cycle based on their observations of 27 male and
118 female prostitutes who agreed to masturbate or to have intercourse
while under observation (Masters & Johnson, 1966). Participants were

monitored with heart rate and blood pressure equipment, as well as with
more peculiar devices such as the penile plethysmograph or vaginal
photoplethysmograph, which are designed to measure blood flow to the
genitalia in men and women, respectively. Masters and Johnson’s initial
study allowed them to develop their methods and work with participants
who, according to the researchers, were less likely to be sexually
inhibited than non-prostitutes. Masters and Johnson followed up this
study with observations of hundreds of men and women to characterize
the physiological changes that occur during sex.
Figure 11.7  summarizes Masters and Johnson’s (1966) observations of
human sexual responding in males and females. The sexual response
cycle  describes the phases of physiological change during sexual activity,
which comprises four primary stages: excitement, plateau, orgasm, and
resolution. Dividing the sexual response cycle into phases allowed the
researchers to describe the cascade of physiological changes that occur
during sexual behaviour. The cycle applies to both male and female
sexual responses, although there are differences between sexes in how
these stages are experienced as well as their duration.

Figure 11.7 Sexual Response Cycles
(a) Masters and Johnson’s studies showed that males typically experience
a single orgasm followed by a refractory period—a time during which
orgasm cannot be physically achieved again. Then they experience
resolution, unless they continue sexual activity. (b) Women typically have
a more varied sexual response profile than men. Here are a few examples:
Line A indicates a woman who has multiple orgasms, Line B a woman
who does not experience orgasm, and Line C a woman who has a single
orgasm.
One topic of particular interest is how males and females differ in their
patterns of orgasm. For example, in one study, 21% to 32% of women
reported that they did not experience orgasm during masturbation or

sexual intercourse (Dunn et al., 2005), whereas only 2% of men did not
experience orgasm. Men usually experience a single orgasm followed by

a refractory period , a time period during which erection and orgasm are not
physically possible. In contrast, some women experience multiple orgasms
without a refractory period.
Recent brain imaging studies have shown that much of the sexual
response cycle is influenced by the hypothalamus. In one stimulating
study, researchers examined the brain activity of women when they

experienced an orgasm while being monitored by functional MRIs
(Komisaruk, 2005). Physical stimulation led to activity in the
hypothalamus, which, in turn, stimulated the pituitary gland to release a

hormone called oxytocin , a hormone related to feelings of trust and the
desire to be close to someone (Aron et al., 2005; Zak, 2008). Blood levels of
oxytocin surge just after orgasm and may remain elevated for at least five
minutes in both females and males (Carmichael et al., 1994; Murphy et

al., 1990). This hormonal response may promote bonding between sexual
partners, as one of our fundamental motivations as humans is to feel

connected to others (see Module 11.3 ).
Sexual Orientation: Biology and
Environment
Although the research discussed thus far has shed light on many aspects
of sexual behaviour, there are still questions that have not been
answered. A topic that has garnered considerable interest is sexual

orientation , the consistent preference for sexual relations with members of
the opposite sex (heterosexuality), same sex (homosexuality), or either sex
(bisexuality). Current definitions of sexual orientation focus on the
psychological aspects of sexuality (e.g., desire, emotion, identification)
rather than strictly behavioural criteria (Bailey et al., 2000). For example,
a person can have a sexual orientation but never have sexual contact
throughout his or her life.
There is a popular misconception that homosexual behaviour is
“unnatural” and that it is only a human behaviour. However, as you will

see in this section, there is a great deal of evidence showing that
homosexuality is common in a number of species (Roselli et al., 2004),
and likely has its roots in the developing brain.
Homosexuality in Nature
Source: Julian W/Shutterstock; Natureguy/Fotolia; Elena Larina/Shutterstock; Sergey
Uryadrikov/Shutterstock
Sexual Orientation and the Brain
Homosexuality has not always been as widely accepted as it is
today. Indeed, psychologists have long struggled to find a

satisfactory explanation for variations in sexual orientation.
Sigmund Freud (1905) advanced the theory that male
homosexuality could be traced to the presence of a domineering
mother and a weak father figure. As recently as 1987, Ellis and

Ames argued that homosexuality could be caused by
experiencing seduction from an older sibling or playmate. Both
theories lack scientific evidence to confirm their validity. Modern
researchers have begun to examine the degree to which sexual
orientation is based on choices people make and on biologically

related factors such as genetics or differences in brain anatomy.
What do we know about the sexual

orientation and the brain?
In the early 1990s, neuroscientist Simon LeVay compared the
brains of deceased homosexual and heterosexual males. In his
work, he found that an area of the hypothalamus was, on
average, smaller in gay men compared to heterosexual men
(Figure 11.8 ; LeVay, 1991). LeVay’s results created a storm of
controversy among both scientists and the public. Many people
interpreted his findings as proof that homosexuality was
biologically, and therefore genetically, determined. In fact, the

differences in the hypothalamus could have been due to
environmental factors—LeVay’s study was not designed to test
either conclusion.
Figure 11.8 Sexual Orientation and the Brain
An early study of the brain basis of sexual orientation found that

homosexual males had a smaller subregion (INAH3) of the
hypothalamus within the medial pre-optic area (LeVay, 1991).
Scientists have been skeptical of LeVay’s results, in part because

they have proved difficult to replicate (Lasco et al., 2002). The
region of the hypothalamus he identified was only smaller on

average in gay men versus heterosexual men, and the ranges in
size were overlapping, with some gay men having a larger

hypothalamic region than some heterosexual men. In addition,
the purportedly homosexual men whom LeVay studied died of

complications associated with HIV, which could have accounted
for the differences in their brains. Although its results are not
considered definitive, LeVay’s study stimulated considerable

scientific curiosity and debate about links between the brain and
sexual orientation.

between sexual orientation and the brain?
A key element of the biology of sexual orientation is the role of
testosterone , a hormone that is involved in the development of sex

characteristics and the motivation for sexual behaviour (see Module
3.1  for a discussion of testosterone’s role in aggression). Greater

prenatal exposure to testosterone causes male-typical brain
development and partner preferences (i.e., a preference for

females). Lower levels of prenatal testosterone lead to female-
typical brain development and partner preferences (i.e., a
preference for males). In studies with nonhuman animals,

researchers have found that exposing a fetus to high levels of
testosterone led to a preference for female sexual partners later in

life, whereas low testosterone exposure led to a preference for
male partners (Henley et al., 2011). It is clear that the presence of

testosterone influences the development of several brain
structures (Manzouri & Savic, 2018a), many of which are likely

related to sexual orientation (Roselli, 2017).
Brain imaging studies have found that differences between

heterosexual and homosexual individuals exist in some neural
areas that are sexually dimorphic (i.e., that vary between the
sexes). These areas include the anterior cingulate gyrus (the part
of the brain that is on top of the corpus callosum) and the

hypothalamus. There is also evidence that the hypothalamus is
part of different brain networks in homosexual and heterosexual
males (Manzouri & Savic, 2018b). Other research has shown that
differences in sexual orientation are associated with the size of
the amygdalae (structures related to emotional responses; Savic
& Lindström, 2008) and also the thickness of several regions of

the cortex (Abé et al., 2014).
Together, these studies show that hormones such as testosterone

can affect how parts of the brain develop, and that these brain
areas show slight differences in their size and functioning in
homosexual and heterosexual individuals.

One potential criticism of these studies is that it is unclear
whether the brain differences that were identified would actually
lead to differences in behaviour. In other words, are the
differences in the hypothalamus and other midline brain
structures related to differences in how heterosexual and
homosexual individuals respond to different stimuli? Techniques

such as functional MRI can be used to address this concern. In
one study, homosexual men and heterosexual women showed
greater activation in the medial preoptic area of the
hypothalamus while smelling a male derivative of testosterone

found in sweat. This brain region did not become activated when
heterosexual men smelled male sweat (Savic et al., 2005).
Homosexual males and heterosexual females also showed greater
activity in the brain’s reward centres when viewing pictures of

aroused male genitalia. Similar results were found when
homosexual and heterosexual men and women viewed erotic
images, with the images of the preferred sex leading to greater
activity in many midline brain structures, particularly in male
participants (Poeppl et al., 2016; Sylva et al., 2013). (Interestingly,

bisexual individuals tend to show similar responses to male and
female images; Safron et al., 2017). These findings might not
provide the final answer about the neural basis of sexual
orientation, but they do indicate that differences in sexual
motivation are related to differences in patterns of brain activity.
An additional concern regarding the brain-anatomy data is that

many animals have brain structures that are similar to ours. If this
is the case, then wouldn’t homosexuality exist in nonhuman

species? Biologists have found that this is in fact that case, with
approximately 8% to 10% of many species engaging in same-sex
encounters. Notably, the primary brain difference detected in
many of these studies is that homosexual animals had a smaller
hypothalamus (Roselli et al., 2004).

Understanding that sexual orientation has a biological origin has
important social implications. It demonstrates that sexual
orientation isn’t simply a lifestyle choice that can be changed like
a job or wardrobe. Instead, the brain areas related to sexual
preference are evolutionarily ancient structures found across a

number of species (Poeppl et al., 2016). This information should
also help discredit a controversial practice known as conversion
therapy, in which “therapists” attempt to teach homosexual or
bisexual individuals to become heterosexual. Elements of this
pseudoscientific therapy include pairing homoerotic images with

painful shocks and telling the individuals that their sexual
orientation is a moral failing (Haldeman, 2002). Although this
cruel practice is opposed by all major psychological and
psychiatric organizations, it is still promoted by some religious

organizations and politicians in North America. Hopefully
additional scientific information will lead to the banning of this
practice.
Genetics and Sexual Orientation
Other research suggests that sexual orientation may be influenced by a
combination of genes. Evidence for this comes from twin studies that
have examined whether identical twins are more likely to have the same
sexual orientation than are fraternal twins. Genetic correlations between
0.30 and 0.60 for homosexuality have been reported for both men and
women, suggesting that approximately half of the individual differences
found in sexual orientation are due to genetic factors (Figure 11.9 ;
Bailey & Pillard, 1995; Bailey et al., 1993; Kirk et al., 2000). This result
tends to hold true for gay men across multiple studies. In contrast, studies
have failed to confirm a genetic relationship between genes and

homosexuality in women (Bailey et al., 2000; Långström et al., 2010).
Thus, genes appear to play at least some role in sexual orientation,
particularly for men. However, this statement does not mean that sexual
orientation is determined by genetics. The brain and endocrine system are
remarkably sensitive to the environment, and they interact with a variety

of sociocultural factors (Meston & Ahrold, 2010). More research
investigating these interactions is clearly necessary.
Figure 11.9 Genetics and Sexual Orientation

Twin studies tend to show consistently higher genetic correlations for
sexual orientation between male identical twins compared to fraternal
twins. This finding indicates that male homosexuality has a genetic basis.
Results of studies comparing female identical and fraternal twins are not
as consistent.
Sources: Based on data from Bailey & Pillard (1995), Bailey et al. (1993), and Bailey et al. (2000).
Transgender and Transsexual Individuals
Most Canadian universities have an office or organization dedicated to
supporting lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) individuals,
doing their utmost to provide them with emotional, social, and
sometimes legal assistance. Thus far, we have discussed many issues
related to sexual orientation, the “LGB” in the above acronym. Until

recently, relatively little was known about transgender individuals.
However, with an increasing number of celebrities going public with their
“trans” status, this topic has been brought to the forefront of popular
culture.
The term transgender  refers to individuals who experience a mismatch
between the gender that they identify with and their biological sex (Oliven,
1965). It does not refer to an individual’s sexual orientation.
Transsexual , on the other hand, refers to the subset of transgender
individuals who wish to permanently transition from their birth sex to the
gender with which they identify (Bevan, 2014). Many transsexual individuals
seek medical assistance in the form of sexual reassignment surgery.
In the past ten years, researchers have begun to investigate whether there
are brain-based differences between transgender individuals and the rest
of the population (Kreukels & Guillamon, 2016). They suggest that sex
hormones such as testosterone influence the sex differentiation of the
genitals in the first 6 to 12 weeks of prenatal development. Sexual
differentiation of brain structures (i.e., the differences that exist between

male and female brains) begin to occur in the second half of prenatal
development. In transgender individuals, it is possible that sex hormones
caused the genitals and body to develop in the direction of one sex (e.g.,
male), while the brain and gender developed in the opposite direction
(e.g., female; Swaab & Garcia-Falgueras, 2009). Consistent with this
view, researchers have found that the volume of some nuclei in the
hypothalamus of male-to-female (MtF) transsexuals resembled female
rather than male brains (Garcia-Falgueras & Swaab, 2008). Researchers
have also found that the brains of females transitioning to males (FtM)
and males transitioning to females (MtF) differ from each other, with MtF
individuals having more white-matter connections between subcortical
areas (lower in the brain) than FtM individuals (Hahn et al., 2015). Of
course, as this line of research is still in its early stages, we must be
cautious when drawing conclusions.
Laverne Cox, an American actress from the Netflix series Orange Is the
New Black, was the first openly transgender person to be nominated for
an Emmy Award. Cox, an LGBTQ activist, has helped shine a spotlight on
many issues related to how people in the LGBTQ communities are
treated in society.
A katz/Shutterstock
It is important to note that this research was not making any moral
judgments about anyone—it was simply an investigation into differences
between groups of people. That said, transgender and transsexual

individuals do face many struggles in our society, and experience stress
and discrimination that can affect health care and their general well-being
(Dargie et al., 2014; Hughto et al., 2015). In an effort to counter these

negative effects, organizations such as the Canadian Psychological
Association (CPA) have produced literature aimed at helping transgender

individuals deal with their negative emotions (CPA, 2016). This
information is also useful for educators, as it will allow them to help

adolescents who are experiencing gender uncertainty, and to provide
accurate information to other students receiving education about sex

(“sex ed”).
Psych@
Sex Ed
In 2015, the Government of Ontario introduced a new sexual

education curriculum that attracted national attention. In
addition to learning the names and functions of the parts of the

male and female reproductive systems, students would learn
about sexting, consent, contraception, sexual orientation, and

gender identity. As noted earlier in this module, some of these
topics—particularly gender identity and sexual orientation—
have been associated with ill-informed explanations. The goal

of the sexual education program was to provide students with
scientifically accurate information. Although the majority of

parents supported the updating of the curriculum, a very vocal
minority opposed the teaching of topics related to
homosexuality, abortion, and contraception.
In 2018, the Liberal government of Kathleen Wynne was
replaced by Doug Ford’s Conservative Party. One of Ford’s

election promises was to scrap the new sexual education
curriculum, a promise that he kept. The replacement

curriculum does not include information about consent or
masturbation, and contains less descriptive information about
online sexual predators. It also provides almost no information

about gender identity and transgender issues (Hauen, 2018).
The contrast in the Liberal and Conservative “sex ed” curricula
leads to some very important questions about sexual
education. What topics should be included? And do students
benefit from this information?
One thing that most researchers agree upon is that programs

that focus on abstinence (i.e., not having sex) are not effective.
A study of the abstinence-until-marriage sex-ed programs used
in many conservative U.S. states found that they did not affect
when teens became sexually active (Santelli et al., 2017).
Additionally, many of the students left these programs with

medically inaccurate information and stigmas about sex. A
large-scale interview study in the U.K. suggested that sex
education should be integrated into larger school programs
that promoted positive and respectful interactions in general

(Pound et al., 2017). Topics such as consent and accepting
different gender identities would naturally fall into this respect-
based program. Students have also noted that sexual
information should be taught in a relevant and engaging

manner (Byers et al., 2013) and that the emphasis should
include some sex-positive information rather than the focus
being entirely on the dangers of sex (Pound et al., 2017).
It is hoped that politicians (regardless of their political party)
will examine some of the available research on sex education in
order to provide students with accurate information. After all,
sex education curricula should ensure that students will leave
middle school and high school with a decent understanding of

sex. This will help teens make informed decisions about the
very adult issues they will soon face.
Human Sexual Behaviour: Cultural
Influences
How is an 18-year-old woman “supposed to” act when she is interested in
having sex? How about an 18-year-old man? Although we’d all love to say
that people should act any way they want, gender roles , the accepted
attitudes and behaviours of males and females in a given society, exist. These
gender roles are flexible over time, however. Your great-grandmothers

were unlikely to have worn revealing clothing or have “hook ups” or
“friends with benefits”; this norm has changed across generations.
Indeed, across generations, there have been significant changes in male
and female sexual scripts , the set of rules and assumptions about the sexual
behaviours of males and females.

Social Changes and Sexual Behaviour
For most of human history, male sexual behaviour was based on
competition. Men would value sexual conquests and the physical
attractiveness of females. Females, on the other hand, would be taught to
be less promiscuous and to focus on developing a stable relationship
before engaging in sexual intercourse. These roles are consistent with the
evolutionary explanations for sex discussed earlier in this module.
But this evolutionary explanation is only part of the explanation for
gender roles and sexual scripts. For a large part of human history,
societies were set up in a way that gave men greater power than women.
Indeed, in many cultures, women were viewed as possessions—first of
their fathers and then of their husbands. Restricting the sexual
expressiveness of women limited their ability to feel empowered, and
allowed the “status quo” of the patriarchy (male-dominated society) to
continue.
But, as we noted, these scripts are changing. Why do you think that is?
Although there are dozens of potential explanations, there are three that
are particularly important. The first is the emergence of the women’s
rights movement over the past 130 years. This movement challenged the
core values of patriarchal society and put pressure on lawmakers to allow
women to have equal economic and political rights, such as voting. The
result was that women were perceived as people rather than possessions.
A second, related, cause was the increasing presence of women in the

workforce. This economic independence meant that females could take
care of themselves if they became pregnant. Therefore, they didn’t need
to be as careful about whom they had sex with. The third reason for
changing sexual scripts was “the pill.” The U.S. Federal Drug
Administration approved the drug Enovid for use as a contraceptive on
June 23, 1960 (Marks, 2001); the pill was legalized in Canada in 1969.
This shift allowed women to have control over when they were going to
become pregnant, thus giving them much more control over their sexual
behaviours. The importance of contraceptives cannot be overstated.
Imagine how people’s lives would be changed if pregnancy was a strong

possibility every time someone had sex.
The development of birth control pills allowed women greater control

over whether they would become pregnant, and dramatically changed
our society.
Everett Collection Historical/Alamy Stock Photo

Cultural Differences and Sexual Behaviour
Of course, it is important to note that not all females or males follow the
same sexual scripts. Different ethnicities and religious groups have their
own scripts as well. For instance, researchers at the University of British
Columbia found that Chinese women (born in China or Taiwan, but
living in Canada) reported more conservative sexual attitudes (Woo et al.,

2010) and lower levels of sexual desire than Euro-Canadian women (Woo
et al., 2012). Why would this occur? Researchers have found that sex
guilt , negative emotional feelings for having violated culturally accepted
standards of appropriate sexual behaviour, is a major factor in these
differences. Interestingly, these differences decrease for individuals who

become more involved with mainstream Western culture, suggesting that
a number of social and cultural factors influence sexual motivations
(Brotto et al., 2005).
Sexual scripts also exist in homosexual relationships. Indeed, researchers

in this field have highlighted the butch (traditionally masculine) and
femme (traditionally feminine) gender roles of some lesbians (Blair &
Hoskin, 2016; Munt, 1998). However, research suggests that these sexual
scripts are more flexible than in heterosexual relationships, possibly due
to the fact that many homosexual individuals do not follow gender roles
to the same degree as do heterosexual individuals (Kurdek, 2005).

Sex and Technology
What type of sexual scripts would develop if people could engage in
sexual behaviour anonymously without having to physically interact with
another person? Although your grandparents may have considered that
question to be science fiction pornography, in the past two decades
electronic media such as text messaging, instant messaging, and social

networking sites have become common outlets for sexual expression.
Electronic media are often used for viewing pornography, having online
sexual encounters, and meeting others for sex offline (i.e., in the real
world). Adolescents, as well as both single and married adults, engage in
cybersex—that is, the use of the internet and cell phones for sending
sexually explicit images and messages to a partner. An estimated 76.5% of
university students use the internet for some form of sexual
entertainment (Döring et al., 2017). Many of these experiences tend to
occur with a person’s primary sexual partner, although interactions do
occur with known non-partners and with strangers (Shaughnessy et al.,

2014).
Unplanned pregnancy and STDs are obviously not an immediate risk of
cybersex. However, people tend to communicate with less inhibition via
digital media compared to face-to-face encounters. This opens up the
possibility for impulsive behaviour such as sending sexually explicit
pictures and messages (“sexting”). These images could end up being
shared with individuals who were not the intended viewer. Many teens
have suffered rather harsh legal consequences for sexting. Some U.S.
states consider sexting to be a form of underage pornography and those
convicted could be required to register as sex offenders. The Supreme
Court of Canada has indicated that underage teens can possess sexual
images of each other assuming it is consensual; however, the distribution
of such images is illegal (R. v. Sharpe; Supreme Court of Canada, 2001).
Regardless of your opinion of, or experience with, cybersex, it is
impossible to ignore the fact that sexual material is readily available in
the wired world. Indeed, some of the most popular websites in the world
contain sexually explicit material.
#Psych
Internet Pornography
In the 1970s, people interested in viewing sexually explicit
materials had to buy a magazine such as Playboy or go to a
theatre showing a pornographic movie. Now, with the advent of
internet pornography, these obstacles are no longer an issue.

Indeed, for the past several years, Montreal-based
Pornhub.com has been among the most popular websites in

Canada, generally ranking in the top 10 in site visits. The
growing popularity of internet porn is based on the Triple-A

concept: it is easily accessible, it is affordable, and it is
generally anonymous (Cooper, 1998). It is also biologically
rewarding. An fMRI study of healthy male participants found

that brief displays of erotic videos elicited activity in the brain’s
reward network (Kühn, & Gallinat, 2014). Survey and behavioural

studies of female heterosexuals and homosexual males also
suggest that these stimuli can be rewarding (Laier et al., 2014,

2015). However, the research is not entirely positive. Internet
pornography can become addictive (Love et al., 2015).
Additionally, frequent viewers can develop a tolerance to

pornography. These individuals need a greater amount of visual
stimulation in order to elicit the same reward response in the

brain as moderate users (Kühn & Gallinat, 2014). Despite
habituating to sexual imagery, viewers are not likely to have
difficulty becoming aroused when they are with their real

partners (Prause & Pfaus, 2015).
Internet pornography can also affect an individual’s romantic

relationships. However, these effects are much more complex
than researchers anticipated and are affected by whether an

individual’s significant other has a similar attitude toward
pornography (Brown et al., 2017). A larger concern is the effect

internet pornography could have on the attitudes and
behaviours of adolescents (Koletić, 2017). Although most

pornography involves fictitious situations, the ease with which
simple settings turn into sexual scenarios may influence

adolescents’ expectations about how normal relationships
work. Additional research will be necessary to determine

whether adolescent pornography use has a lasting impact
upon individuals’ sexual behaviours as adults.
Technology has dramatically changed the accessibility of sex-

related material. A growing number of researchers are
investigating the negative—and positive—effects of using cell
phones and the internet for sexual activities.
Igor Stevanovic/123rf.com
The sexualization of the internet also feeds into an additional

phenomenon in society: the incel movement. Incels are a group of males
who are involuntarily celibate (i.e., they do not have a sexual partner).
What sets them apart from most males is that they react to the celibacy by
making hateful and derogatory statements about women, often in online
forums. Incels believe that it is the duty of women to have sex with men.
Incel websites frequently involve hate-filled discussions of violent
fantasies. The frustration and hatred generated by the incel movement
has led to several shootings and other violent acts, including the April 25,
2018, massacre by van of ten people (eight women) in Toronto.
The topics discussed in this module show us that the motivation for sex is
strong. It also shows us that members of our wired world—particularly

adolescents and young adults—need proper sex education so that this
motivation is linked to the idea of respect.
Module 11.2 Summary
11.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with sexual

motivation.
Review Module 11.2
11.2b Understand . . . similarities and differences in sexual

responses in men and women.
The similarities in sexual response cycles found in men and women can
be explained by a common reproductive physiology in both sexes.

However, males experience a distinct phase called the refractory period,
during which erection or orgasm is not physiologically possible. Both
males’ and females’ sexual behaviours are also influenced by gender
scripts and sexual roles, factors that are affected by the culture in which
the sexual behaviours are taking place.
11.2c Apply . . . your understanding of sex and technology to

examine your attitudes toward different forms of digital and
online sexual activity.
The research reviewed in the Sex and Technology  section of this
module suggests that cell phones and the internet are a common outlet
for sexual motivations. But not everyone is comfortable discussing sexual
activity online or engaging in digital sexual activities via their computer
or cell phone. The questionnaire contains several items taken from a
cybersex questionnaire developed by Sevcikova and Konečný (2011). The
goal of including it here is to have readers examine their attitudes toward
different forms of digital sexual behaviour.
Apply Activity Questionnaire

Please respond to each item on the following scale according to how
often you have engaged in that behaviour online or by text:
1 = Never
2 = Only once
3 = Several times over the past year
4 = At least once a month
5 = At least once a week
Please note that there are no “right” or “wrong” answers.

1 = Never
2 = only once
3 = serveral times over the past year
4 = at least once a month
5 = at least once a week). Please note that there are no “right” or “wrong”
answers.
1. Access information related to sex (e.g., guidelines, problems, etc.)
NOT including erotic videos or photos.
2. Talk/Write with a known person (a friend or partner) about sex
3. Talk/Write with an unknown person about sex
4. Discuss one’s own sexual experience with a known person (e.g., a
friend)
5. Discuss one’s own sexual experience with an unknown person
6. Discuss with a known person their own sexual experience
7. Discuss with an unknown person their own sexual experience
8. Send an erotic photo of yourself to someone else
9. Receive an erotic photo of someone else

The percentage of respondents having engaged in the behaviour at least
once: (1) 54%, (2) 60%, (3) 23%, (4) 46%, (5) 17%, (6) 51%, (7) 20%, (8)
12%, (9) 27.5%. You may also add up the numbers to get your total score.
For sexually active teens in this study, the average was 19 as compared to
teens who had experience with kissing (average = 14).
Source: Sevcikova, A., & Konečný, Š. (2011). An exploration of the relationship between real-
world sexual experience and online sexual activity among 17 year old adolescents.
Cyberpsychology: Journal of Psychosocial Research on Cyberspace, 5(1), article 3.
11.2d Analyze . . . different explanations for what determines

sexual orientation.
Several lines of evidence point to biological factors contributing to

homosexuality. For example, small differences in brain anatomy—
particularly in the hypothalamus—have been observed between
homosexual and heterosexual males. Also, twin studies indicate that
homosexuality has a significant genetic component, particularly in males.

However, biological factors cannot perfectly predict sexual orientation.
There is clearly an interaction between biological and environmental
factors.
Module 11.3 Social and
Inti St Clair/DigitalVision/Getty Images

11.3a Know . . . the key terminology of social and achievement
motivation.
11.3b Understand . . . how people experience a need to belong.
11.3c Understand . . . the different forms of love.
11.3d Apply . . . theories of motivation to understand different
motivations for success in school or at work.
11.3e Analyze . . . claims that a sense of belonging is something people
need versus something they want.
Michelle sat at the end of the gymnasium, watching the varsity girls’
basketball team warming up for their game. She was younger than
most of the women on the team, but still desperately wanted to be a part
of it. She loved playing basketball with her friends, a couple of whom
had made the team, and decided that if she was going to be a part of it
next year, she would have to practise every day. She would also have to
work on the skills that were currently weaknesses so that she could
become a better player.
This story is very familiar—all of us know someone who vowed to work
hard in order to make a team or to improve their position in an

organization. The over-arching question of this module is, “Why do we
try to achieve these goals?” What is motivating Michelle to work hard to

be on the high-profile basketball team with her friends? And what
factors will make it more or less likely for Michelle to succeed?
Everyone acknowledges that humans need to satisfy needs for food,
water, clothing, and shelter in order to survive. Each of these needs is

associated with a motivation, some sort of psychological process that will
cause us to perform a particular behaviour. The need for food would lead
to the behaviour of eating. The need for water would lead to the
behaviour of drinking. But humans have many types of needs, some of

which are less straightforward than the need to eat. These involve social
processes, as well as our need for meaning and a purpose in life. In this
module, we discuss some of these social and achievement needs, and try
to understand the psychological processes that accompany them.

Belonging and Love Needs
When we think about our different needs, it seems like common sense
that some things are more important than others. Eating would obviously
be more important than having high self-esteem, for example. In an early
attempt to understand the different motivations that drive human
behaviour, Abraham Maslow (1943, 1954) described a hierarchy of needs,

with needs associated with our basic physiological survival being more
important than social or achievement needs (see Figure 11.10 ).
According to Maslow, once survival needs are met, then we can move to
higher-level needs such as belonging or the need for self-esteem. At the
highest point of this model lies self-actualization , the point at which a
person reaches his or her full potential as a creative, deep-thinking, and

accepting human being.
Figure 11.10 Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

According to Abraham Maslow, human needs are organized as a
hierarchy with basic needs at the bottom and personal fulfillment and
other uniquely human characteristics at the top.
Although Maslow’s depiction of human needs and motivations seems
logical, numerous researchers have criticized this model. First, the idea
that we must fulfill one need before moving on to the next (in a way that
is similar to levels of a video game) is simplistic (Wahba & Bridwell,

1976). You know from your own life that it is possible to have multiple
motivations simultaneously—you can be striving to self-actualize while

also experiencing the need to achieve at school. A second criticism was
that the hierarchy appeared to be biased toward an individualistic

(Western) culture (Hofstede, 1984). Self-actualization, the peak state of
Maslow’s model, consists of a number of characteristics that put the

individual’s needs or goals first, sometimes at the expense of humanity as
a whole. In collectivistic (primarily Eastern) cultures, such needs would

be much less important than acting to ensure that everyone was getting
along and that the community, not just the individual, was successful.
However, although the hierarchy element of Maslow’s model may be
inaccurate, his work has highlighted the fact that human motivation
extends to a number of different areas rather than being simply a matter

of eating, sleeping, and reproducing. Later researchers have noted that
we have a number of needs that can, at times, feel as pressing as a

grumbling stomach. For example, research suggests that humans have a
fundamental need to belong (Baumeister & Leary, 1995), which motivates

us to affiliate with other people and to seek meaningful, long-term bonds.
Belonging Is a Need, Not a Want
The need to belong  (sometimes known as affiliation motivation) is the
motivation to maintain relationships that involve pleasant feelings such as
warmth, affection, appreciation, and mutual concern for each person’s well-
being. In addition, an individual must have the sense that these feelings
are part of a permanent relationship, such as a friendship, kinship, or

shared group membership (Baumeister & Leary, 1995). A strong sense of
belonging brings more than warmth and happiness; it appears to be
fundamental in the same way that food and shelter are needs—these are
all things that humans cannot survive without.
Although we all probably want to have pleasant interactions, it is the
second part of the definition—a sense of permanence—that is most
important for our well-being. Specifically, an individual who has many
positive social interactions with a series of different individuals does not
enjoy the same satisfaction and other benefits as an individual who

interacts with only a few people, but regularly and for a long period of
time. For example, an executive who flies all over the continent may have
fascinating conversations with fellow passengers every week, yet feel
extremely lonely. Meanwhile, imagine a couple living on a rural farm who
see only a few neighbours during the week, but see the same people
frequently and know them very well. The permanence of their family and
community is significant, and they will probably be much more satisfied
with their sense of belonging over the long run than will the high-flying
executive. Indeed, a substantial number of studies have shown that lonely

people like the executive are more likely to feel depressed—and have
lower life satisfaction in general—than are socially connected individuals
like the rural farmers (Cacioppo et al., 2006, 2011).
In addition to its effects on mental health, psychologists have found that
social connectedness has a dramatic effect on physical health. Research
has demonstrated that loneliness is a risk factor for illnesses such as heart
disease and cancer (Cacioppo et al., 2003). It also elevates a person’s risk
for having hypertension, a weaker immune system, and high levels of
stress hormones. This relationship holds true even when lonely and non-
lonely individuals have the same amount of social interaction—it is the
sense of belonging that counts (Hawkley et al., 2003). Even very simple
indicators such as living alone or an individual’s rating of the statement “I
feel lonely” predict chances of survival after heart attacks and bypass
surgeries (Herlitz et al., 1998; Rozanski et al., 1999). Given that belonging
is important for health and happiness, it makes sense that so much of a
person’s life is focused on friends, family, and romantic partners.

Love
In some cases, the feeling of belonging that accompanies your friendship
and family bonds becomes a form of love. You’d be willing to make great
sacrifices for these lucky people and you know they would do the same
for you. You trust them, look forward to spending time with them, and
genuinely cheer for them as they go through life. Of course, this isn’t the
only type of love that we experience. As you stumble through your
teenage years and enter early adulthood, many of you will desire and
experience romantic relationships. Some of these will produce an intense
feeling that we think of as romantic love.
What is romantic love? This is a question that has permeated our culture
for thousands of years. Armies of anemic English poets have worked
furiously, desperately trying to find the perfect words to describe this
wonderful feeling. For most of our history, love has not been seriously
discussed in scientific circles. However, this has changed in the past 45

years. In 1974, Berscheid and Walter proposed the first scientific model of
love, one that is still widely accepted today (Fehr, 2003). These
psychologists suggested that love is composed of two main components:
passionate love and companionate love. Passionate love  is associated
with a physical and emotional longing for the other person. We feel passionate
love at the beginning of a relationship, when we are just getting to know
the other person and everything is new. Brain imaging research has
shown that feelings of passionate love are associated with activity in areas
of the brain related to physical rewards as well as the insula, a region that
is sensitive to internal bodily feelings such as having “butterflies in the
stomach” (Bartels & Zeki, 2004; Beauregard et al., 2009).
Companionate love , on the other hand, is related to tenderness, and to the
affection we feel when our lives are intertwined with another person (Hatfield
& Rapson, 1993). Although passionate love is certainly more exciting,
companionate love appears to have a greater influence on the long-term
stability of a relationship. Undergraduate research participants viewed
increases in companionate features of love to be more indicative of a
loving relationship than passionate features of love. Decreases in

companionate love suggested that the relationship was in trouble (Fehr,
1988), and may suggest that the people do not feel as committed to each
other as they once did.
Love, therefore, seems to be a very pleasant state. But what motivates
people to seek it out? Arthur Aron and his colleagues (2005) have
suggested that “love is a mammalian drive to pursue preferred mates” (p.
327). In other words, love may be a goal-oriented state in a way that is
similar (but obviously not identical) to hunger and sex drives. To test this
hypothesis, these researchers performed fMRI scans on 17 people who
were in love. While in the scanner, these participants viewed images of

their special someone, as well as photographs of a familiar person. The
brain responses to images of the loved one were stronger in dopamine-

rich areas that are part of the reward system. Even better, activity in some
parts of this system correlated with the participants’ responses on a

passionate love questionnaire (see Figure 11.11 ). Activity in other parts
of the reward system correlated with the intensity of their reported love
and with ratings of facial attractiveness. Importantly, many of these brain
areas contain receptors for oxytocin, the hormone related to feelings of
trust and the desire to be close to someone.
Figure 11.11 Love as a Motivational System

(Left) Neuroimaging data show that viewing images of your beloved (as
opposed to another familiar person) activates the caudate nucleus (the
green structures in the brain images), an area in the brain related to
experiencing rewards. (Right) People who felt greater levels of passionate
love showed larger reward responses.
Source: Adapted from Aron, A., Fisher, H., Mashek, D. J., Strong, G., Li, H., & Brown, L. L. (2005).
Reward, motivation, and emotion systems associated with early–stage intense romantic love.
Journal of Neurophysiology, 94, 327–337 (Fig. 3).
It is important to note that this motivational view of love is still consistent
with the passionate–companionate theory of love. In fact, it adds a

mechanism that can explain why we seek out passionate love in the first
place: a reward state similar to many other types of motivations.

Belonging, Self-Esteem, and Our Worldview
Belonging to a group provides us with a number of benefits, ranging from
physical security (the safety of a group) to the possibility of love (and, in
some cases, mating). Belonging also provides individuals with a culture, a
group of people who share their view of the world. Feeling as though you
are part of a larger, connected group has a number of benefits, ranging

from improved health (see Module 14.1 ) to a greater ability to cope
with stress (see Module 14.3 ). It also helps us deal with more
philosophical fears, such as our fear of dying.

Terror Management Theory and the Need to

Belong
As far as scientists can tell, humankind is the only species on
earth that is aware of its own mortality. This realization creates

some uniquely human problems. How do we cope with the
knowledge that we will one day die? Many of us find support
through some combination of our personal identities, family and
friends, religious beliefs, and connection with our community. So
in some ways, our need to belong may be linked with our fear of
dying. Observations such as this led to the development of terror

management theory (TMT) , a psychological perspective asserting
that the human fear of mortality motivates behaviour, particularly
behaviours that preserve self-esteem and our sense of belonging.
What do we know about terror management

theory?
The knowledge of death has the potential to be terrifying;
however, very few of us experience this anxiety on a daily basis.
Instead, we tend to use anxiety buffers—concepts and beliefs that
prevent death-related anxiety from entering our conscious mind
(Becker, 1971, 1973; Solomon et al., 1991). One anxiety buffer is
known as the cultural worldview, a belief system about how our
world should work. This system provides us with a sense of order
and stability in life, feelings that makes it seem as though death

were not an immediate possibility. Cultural worldviews can also
consist of religious beliefs that influence how we think about the
world around us and that provide us with a belief in an afterlife.
For people who are not religious, the worldview still provides
comfort—the culture that we are a part of will continue even after
we are gone (Hayes et al., 2010). An added benefit of a cultural
worldview is that it gives people a set of standards that they can
live up to. Doing so helps us feel significant and valued, feelings
that make up the anxiety buffer that is self-esteem. According to
TMT, our cultural worldview and self-esteem protect us from the

fear of our own mortality. Not surprisingly, most of us are quite
protective of them.
How can scientists study terror management

theory and the need to belong?
Psychologists typically study TMT by manipulating how aware
participants are of death, something they refer to as mortality
salience. For example, participants might be asked to write a
paragraph or two about what happens to our bodies when we
die. A control group would write about something that is
unpleasant but that does not make mortality more salient (e.g.,
the discomfort of a root canal). After a brief delay, participants
are then presented with stimuli such as a short essay that either
criticizes (experimental group) or does not criticize (control

group) the participant’s cultural worldview; examples might
include written passages that were critical of the person’s country

or university. Participants are then asked to indicate how strongly
they agree or disagree with the essay. In most studies, simply

writing about death is enough to motivate people to defend their
worldview more strongly than participants in the control group,

even though individuals were randomly assigned to different
conditions.
Importantly, psychologists have also identified ways to reduce
the impact of mortality salience. For example, when psychologists
followed the mortality-salient stimuli with an exercise in which

participants generated positive thoughts about their parents, the
effects of mortality salience disappeared (Cox et al., 2008). This

and similar experimental procedures suggest that belonging to
something more permanent—a family or a community—really

does help manage death- related anxiety.

When TMT research began three decades ago, many critics
questioned whether it was really thoughts of death that created
these experimental effects, or whether the effects simply

represented a reaction to the unpleasantness of the study
materials. Terror management theorists quickly pointed out that

the same effects did not arise among members of control groups
who were exposed to unpleasant stimuli ranging from dental

pain to the anxiety of public speaking (Greenberg et al., 2008).
Indeed, a review of 277 experiments confirmed that responses to
mortality salience can be reliably produced in the laboratory

(Burke et al., 2010).
Additional support for TMT was provided by Jeff Schimel and his
colleagues at the University of Alberta. Rather than showing that
our worldview protects us from thoughts of mortality, these

researchers examined whether death-related thoughts would
increase if our worldview was somehow compromised (Schimel et

al., 2007). In their study, participants read a brief essay criticizing
either the Canadian healthcare system or the government of

another country. Participants who read the essay that played
down the benefits of Canada’s health care (i.e., an attack on our

worldview) were more likely than the control group to complete
word fragments with death-related words (e.g., completing

COFF- - to make COFFIN rather than COFFEE). These results
provide additional evidence that our worldview and our
awareness of death and mortality are linked.

TMT has a strong link to politics. Numerous researchers have
noted that mortality salience makes people more extreme in their
beliefs (Burke et al., 2013), often leading them to become more
politically conservative in their statements and attitudes (Jost et

al., 2003). This is likely because conservative ideologies and
political parties provide unambiguous solutions for death-related
problems (e.g., a War on Terror), whereas liberal ideologies and
political parties are more likely to promote change, which is by its
very definition uncertain. An example of this conservative shift

came in the 2004 American election. TMT researchers found that
when potential voters were exposed to mortality salient
information, they became more likely to support Republican
(conservative) President George “Dubya” Bush rather than

Democratic (somewhat liberal) candidate John Kerry (Cohen et
al., 2005; Landau et al., 2004). The fact that Donald Trump’s 2016
election platform was based primarily on the fear of immigrants
and Muslims suggests that this effect did not go unnoticed by
Republican strategists. Indeed, as president, Mr. Trump has

repeatedly used mortality salience in his speeches, often referring
to illegal immigrants as murderers and rapists.
Mortality salience is also used in Canadian elections.

Conservative politicians tend to discuss the need for tougher
sentences for criminals (mortality salience) more than other
parties. And, quite recently, then–Prime Minister Stephen Harper

suggested during the 2015 election campaign that Muslims taking
the Canadian citizenship oath shouldn’t be allowed to wear head
coverings. His government was also providing frequent
reminders that Canada could suffer a terrorist attack (mortality
salience). It is important to note that we are not telling you who
to vote for! But it is also important that you vote for a party based
on its ideas, not because of your fear of death and your need to
belong.
Psychologists have found that people respond to mortality

salience by becoming more protective of their cultural worldview.
Politicians sometimes use this tendency to try to influence voting
behaviour.
Seyit Aydogan/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images

At the beginning of this module, you read about Michelle, a student who
desperately wanted to be on the varsity basketball team. Part of that
desire was likely related to the need to belong, to be part of a team with
her friends. But that can’t explain why she vowed to practise every day so
that she would make the team next year. It would be much easier to join
a team in a lower-level basketball league, or to have her friends put
together a team in a different sport. But, these solutions weren’t part of
Michelle’s story. Instead, she wanted to improve her basketball skills so
that she could be part of the competitive and prestigious league. In other
words, she wanted to achieve a specific goal.
Achievement motivation  is a very strong force in human behaviour,
and refers to the drive to perform at high levels and to accomplish significant
goals. But this motivation isn’t as simple as it sounds. There are a number
of reasons why Michelle could be motivated to achieve. For example,
Michelle might want to make the team in order to receive more respect
and attention from her fellow students. She might also really enjoy the
game and could have a desire to play it as much as possible. In both
cases, Michelle would be attempting to achieve an approach goal , an

enjoyable and pleasant incentive that a person is drawn toward, such as praise,
financial reward, or a feeling of satisfaction. But what if Michelle were
motivated to make the team in order to avoid the embarrassment of being
“cut” from the team this year? That’s a very different mindset than an
approach goal. Instead, her behaviour would be motivated by an

avoidance goal , an attempt to avoid an unpleasant outcome such as shame,
embarrassment, losing money, or feeling emotional pain.
Review Applying Concepts of Achievement Motivation, Part A: Approach-Mastery
Review Applying Concepts of Achievement Motivation, Part B: Avoidance-Mastery

Review Applying Concepts of Achievement Motivation, Part C: Approach-Performance
Source: Applying Concepts of Achievement Motivation, Parts A to D, pg. 842: Add credit: Source:
Based on Elliot, AJ & McGregor, HA (2001). A 2 × 2 achievement goal framework. Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology, 80, 501-519.
Review Applying Concepts of Achievement Motivation, Part D: Avoidance-Performance
If achievement motivation were this simple, we could explain most of our

behaviour in terms of seeking a reward and/or avoiding suffering.
Although both are elements of our behaviour, our motivation to achieve
is also influenced by numerous other factors. In the rest of this module,
we will discuss how these different factors can influence our motivation
to achieve our goals.
Self-Determination Theory
When we think about achieving our goals, we can’t help but think about
making up to-do lists or pro-and-con lists that will help us organize our
lives. But, while these techniques provide us with a practical way of
examining the choices we face, they don’t really tap into the deeper
motivation for why we are, or are not, performing a behaviour.

Psychological research has attempted to fill this void by examining what
researchers refer to as universal needs—needs that (almost) all humans
experience. Researchers have identified three universal needs (Deci &
Vansteenkiste, 2004):
Relatedness: Feeling connected with others, a need satisfied by
forming meaningful bonds with other people such as family
members, teammates, or colleagues at school and work
Autonomy: The need to feel in control of your own life
Competence: The ability to perform a task at a skill level that is

satisfying to the individual
But our motivation isn’t necessarily influenced by how competent we are.
Instead, it is influenced by how competent we think we are. If a very
skilled basketball player didn’t think she was good enough, she wouldn’t
practise as hard as she would if she believed in her abilities. (In contrast,
watch some of the awful singers making the judges’ ears bleed on
American Idol-type shows; they believe they are good, so they continue to
sing . . . sometimes even while security drags them away.) The effect that
your perception of your own ability has on motivation is known as self-
efficacy , an individual’s confidence that he or she can plan and execute a
course of action in order to solve a problem (Bandura, 1997). When people
experience high levels of self-efficacy, their performance improves and
they are motivated to choose more challenging tasks to perform (Eccles &
Wigfield, 2002). So, if you believe that you can competently do
something, you will be more motivated to attempt to do so.
During the mountain stages of competitive cycling races such as the Tour
de France, many riders will suddenly lose speed and fall behind the other
riders trying to climb the steep mountain roads. This occurs even when
the rider is in amazing physical condition. Television commentators say
that the cyclist has “popped.” Psychologists would say that the rider lost
his feeling of self-efficacy.
Rupert Rivett/Alamy Stock Photo
A theme running through all three of our universal human needs—
relatedness, autonomy, and competence—is the need to feel in control of

our life and our decisions. We want to be able to choose who we
associate with and the form those relationships are going to take
(relatedness), control the decisions that affect our lives (autonomy), and
be in control of the actions necessary to carry out those decisions
(competence). These themes are part of self-determination theory , a

theory that states that an individual’s ability to achieve their goals and attain
psychological well-being is influenced by the degree to which he or she is in

control of the behaviours necessary to achieve those goals (Ryan & Deci,
2000). So, if we are able to achieve this control, or at least feel like we
have control, then we will be more motivated to perform the actions
necessary to achieve that goal. We will also be happier. Self-
determination theory has been used to explain a number of behaviours,

ranging from the likelihood of successfully learning a second language
(Noels et al., 2000), to the motivation to exercise (Wilson et al., 2008), to

the establishment of healthy identities (La Guardia, 2009), and to the
ability to adapt to life as an international student studying in Canada

(Chirkov et al., 2007, 2008). In each case, increasing feelings of
competence, autonomy, and relatedness increased motivation.
But, at this point in our discussion, our explanation for why we are
motivated to achieve goals only explains very general, deep-seated needs.
To more thoroughly explain our behaviours, we need to look more
closely at specific factors that could influence motivation.

Extrinsic and Intrinsic Motivation
One way to examine the question of “Why do we try to achieve a goal?” is
to determine whether our motivation is externally or internally generated.
If you wanted to be on a basketball team in order to be popular, you
would be experiencing extrinsic motivation  (or a performance
motive ), motivation geared toward gaining rewards or public recognition, or

avoiding embarrassment (Deci, 1971; Vansteenkiste et al., 2006). This form
of motivation is not always the most effective, as it requires a person to
give up some autonomy. If you play basketball to seem cool, then you
must rely on other people’s reactions to determine if you succeeded in
your goal (i.e., other people control whether you are viewed as “cool”).
Taken to its most extreme, people can become amotivational , a feeling
of having little or no motivation to perform a behaviour. If your parents forced
you to play basketball against your will, you might stop putting forth any
effort. In this case, neither the feelings of autonomy nor competence
would be met.
Luckily, not all of our motivation is controlled by outside forces.
Sometimes we do things simply because we enjoy doing them. For
example, what if you wanted to become a better basketball player simply
for the joy of playing and improving yourself? In this case, the motivation
to improve came from within yourself rather than from some external
source. This would be an example of intrinsic motivation  (or mastery
motive ), the process of being internally motivated to perform behaviours and
overcome challenges (e.g., a genuine desire to master a task rather than being
motivated by a reward).
A study of grade 5 students showed the profound effect that intrinsic and
extrinsic motivation can have on how we respond to challenges and to
failures (Mueller & Dweck, 1998). Children were given sets of puzzle
problems and were asked to complete them independently. After
successfully solving the first set of puzzles, some of the students were
praised for their intelligence (e.g., “You must be smart to do these
problems”) while others were praised for their work ethic (e.g., “You must
have worked hard at these problems”). The psychologists then gave the
children another, more difficult, set of problems to complete. This time,
the researchers told the children that they had scored lower on these
questions. Finally, the children were asked to select the goals that they
tended to work toward. This list included performance/extrinsic goals
such as choosing easy questions to avoid getting many wrong, as well as
mastery/intrinsic goals such as selecting problems that one could learn
from.
The results of the experiment were remarkable. The children praised for
being smart tended to feel less pleasure during learning and instead
tended to worry about how well they were doing. They gave up more
easily and performed more poorly. Just under 70% of these students
selected performance/extrinsic goals when given a list of options. In
contrast, only 10% of the students who were praised for their effort chose
performance/extrinsic goals when asked what motivated them. Instead,
they focused on working hard, overcoming challenges, and learning from

their mistakes. Even more stunning was the fact that the students praised
for being smart were three times more likely to lie about their results to
other people. Almost 40% of the “smart” students lied about their results,
compared with only 13% of the “effort” students (Mueller & Dweck,
1998). In summary, the students praised for intelligence felt incredible

pressure to live up to that label and went to great extents to preserve that
image, including selecting easier questions and lying about their results.
Based on this study, what parenting techniques do you think would help
kids become well-adjusted?
Stephen Smith
Intrinsic motivation occurs when someone is internally motivated to
perform a behaviour. These behaviours can range from school or work
performance to playing sports to learning a new skill. In the case of
children, the parents, coaches, and educators must balance their goal of
helping the children improve their performance with the need to allow
the children to maintain feelings of autonomy and competence.
Hoxton/Alamy Stock Photo

A Continuum of Motivation
It is important to note that intrinsic and extrinsic motivation are not
completely separate. Rather, intrinsic motivation, extrinsic motivation,
and amotivation can be placed on a continuum that depicts how much
self-determination an individual might feel for those behaviours (see
Figure 11.12 ). Critically, where a given behaviour lies on this

continuum can change over time or across situations. Take, for example,
behaviours that were initially extrinsically (externally) motivated.
Generally, these behaviours are not associated with much passion, as
some outside motivation (e.g., money or another person) is stimulating
this behaviour. But, over time, it is possible that some of these behaviours
will become internalized so that they are part of a person’s identity. A
basketball player might begin working out because it will increase the
odds that they will be recruited to play for a team and will become
popular. Over time, however, they might become enthusiastic about
exercising for its own sake and could make that part of their identity long
after their basketball career ended. By making exercising part of their
identity, the basketball player gains autonomy over this behaviour
because they are the one motivating it, not some external source like a
coach. Internalized behaviours are more likely to be performed—and
performed well—than extrinsically motivated behaviours that are not
internalized.
Figure 11.12 The Continuum of Self-Determination Theory

On this continuum, amotivation would reflect very low levels of self-
determination. Intrinsic motivation, on the other hand, would reflect a
high degree of self-determination.
Myths in Mind
Rewards Improve Motivation
People generally like being rewarded for their behaviour.

Receiving an unexpected gift from an employer along with a
“Well Done!” note can increase a person’s desire to work just as

hard in the future. However, the relationships between
motivation and rewards are not as simple as you might expect.

For instance, if you give someone a reward (other than verbal
praise) for an intrinsically motivated behaviour, the intrinsic

motivation decreases, as does the frequency of the behaviour.
This change in motivation is known as the over-justification

effect (Lepper et al., 1973). This decrease in motivation is likely
due to the change from being internally motivated (high

autonomy) to being dependent upon a reward (low autonomy).
So, if you loved basketball, but then started receiving money

from your parents for each basket, you would actually feel less
motivated to play than you did before! This effect has profound
implications for parenting, education, and the business world.
For example, if good students were given rewards for getting
good grades, it might reduce how much they identified

themselves with learning. Businesspeople who work in the
hopes of getting a bonus monetary reward will be less likely to

identify with the projects or products they are working on. In
both cases, the rewards have moved their motivation along the
continuum from intrinsic toward extrinsic. This isn’t to say that
rewards should never be given; sometimes this is the only

option to motivate someone. However, as we learn more about
the over-justification effect, it is becoming increasingly clear

that we need to more carefully consider the effects of rewards
on behaviours that were already intrinsically motivated.
Of course, there is one important limitation to our discussion of intrinsic
and extrinsic motivation: most of the studies used data from university
students in Western countries. Recently, psychologists have begun to
examine whether motivational processes differ across cultures.
Cultural Differences in Motivation
The fact that there are cultural differences in motivation should surprise
no one. Western culture tends to promote autonomy and the individual,
whereas Eastern cultures put more emphasis on meeting the needs of the
community. In other words, the actions of North Americans are often
controlled by the individual, whereas the actions of people in Eastern

cultures (e.g., East Asians) are often jointly controlled by the individual
and their family and community (Markus & Kitayama, 2003). As a result,
while intrinsically motivated behaviours should lead to positive
performance and emotions across cultures, the responses to extrinsically
motivated behaviours might differ. Specifically, people in individualistic

cultures like Canada and the United States will be less motivated to
perform these behaviours than people from “collectivistic” Eastern
culture. This latter group will view extrinsically motivated actions as
being performed to help their family or community. In fact, if these
individuals feel like they are making the decision to act collectively, they
will experience an improvement in subjective well-being similar to that
found when they engage in intrinsically motivated behaviour (Chirkov et
al., 2003).
Cultural differences have also been observed in the motivation to
improve one’s self. Researchers at the University of British Columbia, in
collaboration with colleagues in Kyoto, Japan, examined how Canadian
(of European ancestry) and Japanese students responded to failure (Heine
et al., 2001). Participants were asked to complete a Remote Associates

Task in which they were asked to identify a word that linked together
three other words (e.g., dust, struck, and ship could be linked by the word
star). The participants were told that this test measured emotional
intelligence and creativity. The researchers found that Japanese
participants were more motivated to work on the task after failing than
after performing well; European-Canadian participants showed the
opposite pattern. Follow-up studies found that these differences were
likely due (in part) to cultural differences in the importance of effort in
success. Failure decreased motivation to work in Canadian students but
increased motivation in Japanese students (Heine et al., 2001).
Culture may play a slightly more complicated role for some Canadians,
however. Many people in our country are first- or second-generation
immigrants from another culture. They can therefore identify with their
family’s ancestral culture (e.g., China) or with their current culture
(Canada, a “Western” society). How are these bicultural individuals
influenced by intrinsic and extrinsic motivation? It turns out that the
answer depends upon which culture the individual identifies with at any
given moment. Using a diary study in which participants were prompted

to submit electronic entries at different points in the day for 10 days,
Elaine Perunovic and her colleagues found that when bicultural Asian
Canadians identified with Western culture, extrinsic motivation was
linked with negative emotions, likely due to a loss of a feeling of

autonomy (see Figure 11.13 ). In contrast, when these participants
identified with their Asian culture, their levels of negative emotions were
unaffected by extrinsic motivation. There were no cultural differences in
intrinsic motivation (Perunovic et al., 2011).
Figure 11.13 Cultural Differences in Extrinsic Motivation

Extrinsic motivation was linked with negative emotions when Asian
Canadians identified with their Western culture. It did not affect negative
emotions when participants identified with their Asian heritage. Intrinsic
motivation showed no cultural differences.
Source: Perunovic, W.Q.E, Heller, D., Ross, M., & Komar, S. (2010). The within-person dynamics
of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, affective states, and cultural identification: A diary study of
bicultural individuals. Social Psychological and Personality Science, 2(6), 635–641. Fig. 1, p. 639.
Taken together, these results show that motivation can be influenced by

culture. It also shows the power of the need to belong—the Eastern focus
on the community rather than the individual made extrinsically motivated

behaviour seem less like a burden and more like a group decision.
Module 11.3 Summary
11.3a Know . . . the key terminology of social and achievement

motivation.
Review Module 11.3
11.3b Understand . . . how people experience a need to belong.
Psychologists have discovered a number of ways in which people are

motivated to enter into personal relationships. People seek out
friendships, romantic relationships, and group membership to satisfy this
need.
11.3c Understand . . . the different forms of love.
Passionate love involves a physical and emotional longing for the other
person. It typically occurs at the beginning of a relationship.
Companionate love involves the tenderness and affection felt when a
person’s life is intertwined with another person’s. Companionate love has
a greater influence on the long-term stability of relationships.
11.3d Apply . . . theories of motivation to understand different

motivations for success in school or at work.
In this module, you learned about the difference between approach and
avoidance motivation. You also learned to distinguish between mastery
(implicit) and performance (explicit) motivation.
Table 11.3 Types of Motivation

11.3e Analyze . . . claims that a sense of belonging is something
people need versus something they want.
Although belonging may not be the most basic type of need on the
hierarchy of needs—those positions are usually assigned to food, water,

and shelter—it is a significant need nonetheless. Research has shown that
living without a feeling of belonging has some drastic consequences. Not

only is loneliness related to depression, but it is also associated with a
reduced lifespan. The fact that belonging is essential to good health and
longevity provides strong support for classifying it as a need, not just

something people want.
Module 11.4 Emotion
Matteo photos/Shutterstock
11.4a Know . . . the key terminology associated with emotion.
11.4b Understand . . . how the nervous system responds to emotions.

11.4c Understand . . . cultural similarities and differences in emotional
expressions.
11.4d Apply . . . your knowledge of theories of emotion to new
examples.
11.4e Analyze . . . what purpose(s) facial expressions serve?
Imagine the following scenario: You are sitting in your bedroom
watching television. Suddenly, you notice something moving beside one
of your textbooks. Your heart rate increases slightly and your palms
begin to sweat as you move closer to the moving object.
At this point—before we know how this story resolves itself—it is
important to examine some details about your emotional response.
First, the “you” in this story was very quick to locate and pay attention
to a potentially threatening stimulus; nothing else in your environment
seemed to matter for that instant. The moving object could have been a
leaf or clump of dust that was being moved by the air conditioning in
your house. Or it could have been a spider or, worse yet, a spider with a
knife. What is important to note is that before you were even able to
consciously identify what the object was, your body was preparing itself
to act. You were afraid, and your body responded with an increase in
heart rate, sweating, and muscle tension. Once you determine whether
the moving object is dangerous or not, you can either increase or
decrease your emotional reaction. If it is just a dust bunny, you don’t

need to feel fear. However, if it is a well-armed spider, then your initial
emotional response may be appropriate.
This example illustrates the key parts of an emotional experience: We
detect an emotional item, we have an initial emotional reaction

preparing us to respond, and then, after we analyze the situation, we
increase or decrease that response. In this module, we will take a closer

look at these different parts of our emotional responses in an effort to
better understand the emotions that we experience every day.
Like most concepts in psychology, the term emotion can mean a number
of different things. Common convention in psychology is to define an
emotion  as being a behaviour with the following three components: (a) a

subjective thought and/or experience with (b) accompanying patterns of neural
activity and physical arousal and (c) an observable behavioural expression (e.g.,
an emotional facial expression or changes in muscle tension). Although this
definition still includes thoughts and feelings, it also shows that our
current understanding of emotion encompasses other elements as well. In
particular, it shows us that the emotions we experience include a

biological response.
Children who are born both deaf and blind show the same facial
expressions and emotions as people who see and hear. This is one of
many pieces of evidence that our emotions have a strong biological basis.
Darren Greenwood/Design Pics Inc/Alamy Stock Photo

Physiology of Emotion
In the example at the beginning of this module, we noted that emotional

behaviours are actually quite complex and involve a number of different
components. Although we often think of emotional responses occurring
in a number of separate stages, research suggests that this view might be
a bit too simple (Pessoa & Adolphs, 2010). Instead, our neural responses
to emotions are best thought of as a series of networks or loops. Each
network involves a group of neural structures that work together to
produce different parts of your emotional response (e.g., increased heart
rate); however, these networks can also provide feedback to each other.
These interactions allow you to modify your emotional responses as you
learn more about your situation. In this section, we will discuss the
different areas of the nervous system that are involved in emotions and
will show how different areas work together to produce the emotional
behaviours that have allowed our species to survive in a dangerous
world.
The Initial Response
The human brain shows emotion-dependent responses within
approximately 150 ms of seeing or hearing a potential threat (Pizzagalli et
al., 2002). The goal of this early activity isn’t to consciously identify an
emotional stimulus. Instead, the purpose of this initial brain activity is to
tag or highlight that stimulus so that it receives extra processing by brain

structures at later stages of perception. For an example of this
phenomenon, look at Figure 11.14 . There are many different objects in
this scene, yet you likely paid more attention to the snake than to
anything else. Why does this happen? How does your brain make some
stimuli more important than others, and what consequences follow from
that?
Figure 11.14 How Emotional Elements of a Scene Attract Our Attention

Most of us are very quick to notice threatening stimuli such as snakes and
spiders (left panel). This ability is due, in part, to interactions between the
amygdala and our sensory cortices. Sensory cortices (e.g., the visual
cortex) send signals to the amygdala that influence its activity. Feedback
from the amygdala causes an increase in activity in sensory regions such
as the visual cortex (right panel), leading to more attention being paid to
the parts of our visual world that contain the threatening stimulus. These
areas continue to influence each other through these pathways.
Roy Toft/National Geographic/Getty Images

Source: Republished with permission of Elsevier Science, Inc., from Vuilleumier, P. (2005). How
brains beware: neural mechanisms of emotional attention. TRENDS in Cognitive Sciences 9(12),
585–594. Figure 1a, p. 588. Permission conveyed through Copyright Clearance Center, Inc.
A critical brain area involved in this process is the amygdala , a group of

nuclei in the medial portion (near the middle) of the temporal lobes in each
hemisphere of the brain. The amygdala receives sensory input from the
cortex, the outer part of your brain, approximately 200 ms after an
emotional stimulus appears (Krolak-Salmon et al., 2004). The amygdala

fires when we perceive stimuli that are emotionally arousing, and is
especially sensitive to fear-relevant images and sounds. However, the

firing of the amygdala on its own does very little—it is the amygdala’s
projections to other brain structures that lead to the observable
behaviours that we think of as being emotional responses. When the
amygdala receives input about a stimulus that might be emotionally

meaningful or threatening, it sends feedback to sensory areas so that they
fire more than they would for a non-emotional stimulus. So, when you
see a spider or hear a dog growling, your amygdala will help to increase
the activity in your visual and auditory cortices, respectively. The result is
that we end up paying more attention to these potentially emotional
stimuli. Sensory cortices and the amygdala continue to influence each
other through these “feedback loops” throughout the emotional

experience (Vuilleumier, 2005).
The Autonomic Response: Fight or Flight?
An emotional response obviously involves more than simply perceiving a
threat—we need to prepare our body to physically respond to the
emotional stimulus, if necessary. Importantly, this preparation needs to
occur instinctively and as rapidly as possible. The autonomic nervous
system (ANS) specializes in such responses. As you read in Module 3.3 ,

the ANS consists of two systems: (1) the sympathetic nervous system,
which helps recruit energy to prepare you for a response (e.g., to fight or
flee from a potential threat), and (2) the parasympathetic nervous system,
which helps preserve energy and calms you down if no response is
necessary (Figure 11.15 ). Think back to the example at the beginning of
this module. If the moving object was a large and angry spider, the
sympathetic nervous system would mobilize resources so that you had
enough energy either to do battle with this threatening creature or to run
away from it. If you discovered that you weren’t in immediate danger
(e.g., a moving object is a leaf, not a spider), the parasympathetic nervous

system would become active in an attempt to return you to a normal level
of emotional arousal.
Figure 11.15 The Autonomic Nervous System and Emotional Responding

The ANS is involved in emotional responding. The sympathetic division
prepares the body to respond to stress, and the parasympathetic division
restores the body to normal conditions.
The Emotional Response: Movement
If your body is going to mobilize its energy resources during an emotional
response, it also needs to plan for what it is going to do with them. In
other words, the nervous system needs to prepare your body to make a
movement in response to the emotion you are experiencing (e.g.,
jumping away from the spider). The problem for us is that even the
simplest of movements requires the coordination of a number of parts of
your nervous system so that the muscles move in the appropriate order.
Research has found that emotional stimuli—particularly threatening
emotional stimuli—trigger an increase in activity in brain areas related to
planning movements (Pereira et al., 2010) and in several regions of the

spinal cord (Smith & Kornelsen, 2011). This activity suggests that our
nervous system is becoming prepared to make a movement if one is
necessary—this preparation likely increases the speed and efficiency of
our emotional responses.

Emotional Regulation
As we saw in the example at the beginning of this module, it makes sense
from a survival standpoint to have rapid emotional responses and then to
decide if the responses are correct or not. However, this evaluative stage
of emotional responses is the most complex and involves a number of
areas within our frontal lobes. The frontal lobes receive information
directly from the amygdala and from sensory areas whose activity is
influenced by the amygdala. As a result, the frontal lobes have access to
highly detailed information about a stimulus or situation as well as
information about the initial responses of other brain networks. The
frontal lobes must determine whether the instinctive emotional responses

produced by earlier stages of processing are the best ones for that given
situation. In some cases, the frontal lobes will analyze the situation and
agree that an emotional response is necessary. It will then generate a
behaviour that is appropriate for that situation (e.g., you should continue
to run away from the spider). In other cases, the frontal lobes will analyze
the situation and decide that a stimulus is not emotional (e.g., the moving
object was just dust or a leaf, not a spider). In this case, it is necessary to
decrease the emotional responses so that the ANS is not depleting the
body’s resources. So, in the first situation (running away from the spider),
the amygdala and ANS influence the frontal lobes; in the second
situation, the frontal lobes send feedback that reduces the intensity of the
initial emotional response. This constant communication between brain
regions is an important characteristic of our emotional system (Mayberg

et al., 1999) and explains why we can sometimes feel emotionally out of
control and at other times feel “cool, calm, and collected.”

Experiencing Emotions
Try this: hold a pencil or straw in your mouth sideways without letting
your lips touch it—just your teeth. Wait for a few seconds. How do you
feel? Happy? Sad? Afraid? Why do you think you feel this way?
When we think of the term emotion, we rarely think about complex

interconnected responses in our brains. Instead, we think of the
subjective, personalized feelings that we experience such as happiness or
fear. For example, we’ve already discussed how seeing an unidentified
moving object in your bedroom can trigger activity in a number of
physiological systems leading to the firing of millions of neurons in your
brain and in the autonomic nervous system throughout your body. But
you would think of that experience as a feeling of fear. How are the
physiological response and the psychological feeling related? Which
comes first and, importantly, how would you test this question?
The earliest scientific theory of emotions was independently developed
by William James, one of the founders of psychology in North America,
and a Danish researcher named Carl Lange. Now known as the James-
Lange theory of emotion , this view suggested that our physiological

reactions to stimuli (e.g., a racing heart) precede the emotional experience (e.g.,
the fear). In other words, your subjective feelings such as happiness or
fear follow your physiological responses. But the James-Lange theory
goes one step further, claiming that your feeling of fear is determined by
how your body responds. According to this theory, emotion would be

experienced in the following way: (1) based on your initial perception of
a stimulus, your heart starts to race, (2) your brain receives feedback
about that response, and then (3) the brain decides that based on the
feedback it has received, you should feel fear. This sequence of events
may contradict your own commonsense experience of emotion. If so, you
are not alone. Some prominent researchers from the same era disagreed
with James and Lange.
Walter Cannon and Philip Bard developed an alternative to the James-
Lange theory (see Figure 11.16 ). They noted that some of the internal
organs involved in emotional feelings could not respond quickly enough
to be the first step in an emotional response. They also suggested that the
feedback from the body was not specific enough to create the different
emotions that we experience. Instead, the Cannon-Bard theory of
emotion  suggested that the brain interprets a situation and generates
subjective emotional feelings, and that these representations in the brain trigger
responses in the body. This theory suggests that these emotional processes
occur very quickly, so that the steps occur almost simultaneously.
Figure 11.16 Competing Theories of Emotion

What is the correct order of events when it comes to emotional
experiences? The James-Lange and Cannon-Bard theories differ in their
predictions.
Source: Adapted from Dr. Silvia Helena Cardosa,

www.cerebromente.org.br/m05/mente/tub6.gif.
For several decades, the Cannon-Bard theory was the most widely
accepted view of our emotional behaviours. However, as clever
researchers examined emotions in more detail, this “commonsense”

theory began to show its limitations (another example of scientific
knowledge evolving). In fact, there is more empirical support for the

James-Lange theory than for the Cannon-Bard theory. This is likely due to
the fact that some of the bodily feedback involved in emotional responses
is caused by facial responses that have direct connections to the brain
rather than by slow responses from internal organs. Indeed, the facial
feedback hypothesis  is a key feature in modern interpretations of the

James-Lange theory (see Figure 11.17 ). This hypothesis suggests that our
emotional expressions can influence our subjective emotional states. So, if your
lips are smiling, you will feel happier. Did you feel happier when you held
your pencil or straw in your teeth a few minutes ago? Research
participants who performed this action were essentially smiling whether
they meant to or not. As the facial feedback hypothesis predicted, the

participants reported elevated levels of happiness (Strack et al., 1988).
Figure 11.17 The Facial Feedback Hypothesis
Psychologists have found that inducing a facial expression, such as a

frown or a smile, can have mild effects on how people feel. This lends
support to the facial feedback hypothesis.
What is a potential alternative explanation for this result? If you tried this
example in front of other people, the answer would become readily

apparent: You look and feel silly. In order to rule out the possibility that
making any artificial face would improve your mood, researchers had
participants make a different facial expression. Hold the pencil sideways
in your mouth using only your lips—don’t let your teeth come into contact
with the pencil. The result is a slight pout. This is an experimental
method of producing a sad face and, sure enough, it leads to a less
positive mood (Larsen et al., 1992).
However, the facial feedback hypothesis is not supported by all studies

(Wagenmakers et al., 2016). An examination of several previous studies
found that facial feedback effects are reproducible, but not as powerful as
was previously believed (Coles et al., 2019). Therefore, although

biological responses are part of our emotional experiences, there must be
other factors that affect how we feel.
The Two-Factor Theory of Emotion
To this point, our discussion of emotions has focused on physical
reactions. However, our emotional feelings also involve thoughts,

memories, beliefs, and interpretations of different stimuli and
situations. How do these different factors interact to produce our
emotional experiences? In the 1960s, two researchers developed
a theory of emotion that addressed this question.
What do we know about the two-factor theory

of emotions?
Researchers Stanley Schachter and Jerome Singer (1962) agreed
with James and Lange that our physical reactions give rise to our
emotional experiences. However, they also pointed out that

many emotions can elicit physiological arousal. How do we
choose which emotion goes with this arousal? Schachter and
Singer suggested that it is our interpretation of why we are
aroused that creates the emotional experience. Their theory, the

two-factor theory , holds that patterns of physical arousal and the
cognitive labels we attach to them form the basis of our emotional
experiences. Physical arousal is the first factor to come into play
(as James and Lange predicted) and along with this comes a
cognitive label for the experience, such as “I am sad.” Combining
the two factors, the physical and cognitive, gives rise to the
emotional experience of sadness (see Figure 11.18 ).

Figure 11.18 Two-Factor Theory of Emotion
According to Schachter and Singer, emotions are experiences

composed of physiological responses and the cognitive labels we
give them.
How can science explain the two-factor

theory?
To test this theory, Schachter and Singer performed a study in
which participants were given different cognitive labels for the
same physical feeling. These researchers injected three groups of

volunteers with adrenaline (epinephrine), a stimulant that
increases a person’s heart rate, causes sweating, and makes a

person’s face feel warm and flushed. So, all participants
experienced the same physical symptoms. However, the
cognitive explanation for those symptoms was manipulated by
the experimenters. The experiment consisted of four groups:
Informed Group: These participants were correctly informed
about the cause of the physical symptoms.

Ignorant Group: These participants were not given
information about the cause of the physical symptoms.

Misinformed Group: These participants were given incorrect
information about the injection; they were told that

adrenaline leads to numbing, itchiness, and a slight
headache.
Control Group: These participants were injected with a
saline solution and therefore didn’t experience physical

symptoms.
Thus, only the Informed Group had a correct cognitive

explanation for their physical feelings. The experimenters then
had each participant sit in a room with another participant who,

in reality, was an actor paid to create an emotional scene. In one
version of the study, the experimenters told the participants that

they would have to wait for 20 minutes before receiving a vision
test, and that they could doodle on the papers left in the room.
After the experimenter left the room, the actor began to behave
in an excited fashion, playing basketball with crumpled-up paper

and playing with props that had been left in the room (e.g., hula-
hoops). In other words, the actor was behaving euphorically
(extremely happily). In another version of the study, participants

were asked to fill out questionnaires during the 20-minute delay
period. The questions were quite personal in nature, and

oftentimes mildly offensive (e.g., “With how many men [other
than your father] has your mother had extramarital relationships?

4 and under, 5–9, 10 and over”). After reading these questions,
the actor became quite angry and tore up the sheet of paper
while swearing.
The question the experimenters wanted to answer was whether

the participants’ responses to the actor were affected by the
cognitive explanation they had been given for the effects of
adrenaline. Presumably, if you knew that you were going to have
your heart rate increase due to a drug, then you would attribute
any changes in your heart rate to the drug, not to the actor. In
contrast, if you didn’t know about the effects of adrenaline, then
you would assume that your heart was racing because you were
having an emotional response to the actor. As predicted, in both

the euphoria and the anger conditions, the participants’
emotional responses were influenced by their ability to explain
their physical symptoms. When people understood the
adrenaline was going to make their heart race, they reported

smaller emotional reactions to the actor than when they were
ignorant of the drug’s effects (see Figure 11.19 ). This classic
study provided the first evidence that our cognitive interpretation
of an emotional event can have a dramatic effect on how we
experience that situation. In the process, it showed a limitation of

the James-Lange theory. That theory would assume that the
emotional experience (anger or euphoria) would be due to
different physiological causes. Instead, the same physiological
stimulus—adrenaline—led to different emotional responses in the

two experimental conditions.
Figure 11.19 Results from Schachter and Singer’s Study

If participants knew that their racing heart was due to a drug
injected by the experimenter, their emotional responses to the
actor in the study were smaller. This graph depicts the number of
angry statements and acts performed by participants in the angry
condition of the experiment.
Source: Graph based on Schachter, S., & Singer, J. (1962). Cognitive, social, and
physiological determinants of emotional state. Psychological Review, 69, 379–399. Table
5, p. 392.
Can we critically evaluate these findings?

One criticism of Schachter and Singer’s experiment is that it
might not apply to the real world. Very few of us are given
injections of adrenaline and made to watch someone acting in an
emotionally extreme manner. In order to test the generalizability
of these results, Donald Dutton and Arthur Aron (1974) from the
University of British Columbia performed an innovative

experiment that provided strong support for the two-factor
theory. In this study, a female experimenter told male
participants that she was investigating the effects of scenic
attractions on creative expression. Participants were asked to
cross a bridge before completing the Thematic Apperception

Test, an open-ended test in which participants create stories to go
along with a set of pictures. The independent variable of this
study was the bridge the participants crossed. In the control
condition, individuals crossed a solid wooden bridge that was
approximately 3 m above a small, shallow stream. In the
experimental condition, individuals crossed the Capilano Canyon

Suspension Bridge, which, as the name would suggest, crosses
the Capilano Canyon near Vancouver. This bridge is 120 m long,
hangs 75 m above rocks and rapids, and has a tendency to sway,
which can create the impression that one is about to fall over the
edge. Needless to say, the experimental condition would produce

greater levels of emotional arousal. Interestingly, participants
who were in the experimental condition included significantly
more sexual imagery in their stories than did participants in the
control condition. The explanation for this result is that the

participants experienced stronger emotions when crossing the
suspension bridge, but misattributed the arousal to the pictures.
Stronger support for this explanation came from an interesting

addition to the study. After the participants had completed the
Thematic Apperception Test, the female experimenter tore off a
sheet of paper and wrote down “her number” (a fake phone

number set up by the experimenters). Only 12.5% of the control
participants phoned the woman’s number; 50% of the
experimental participants phoned the same woman. When
participants experienced emotional arousal, they interpreted it as
attraction to the experimenter. Keep this result in mind the next

time someone wants to take you to a scary movie for a first date.
Bill Aron/PhotoEdit, Inc.
Bill Aron/PhotoEdit, Inc.

An example of the Thematic Apperception Test stimuli used in
the Capilano bridge experiment. Males in the high-arousal
condition produced stories that included more sexual imagery
than did participants in the control condition.

Studies of the two-factor theory of emotions show us that
although we do have rapid physiological responses to emotional

situations, it is our interpretation of those events that leads to our
emotional experiences. This obviously doesn’t mean that you will
never be upset. But knowing that you can control how you
interpret some of the emotional (or even the aggravating day-to-
day) events of your life means that you can try to reduce the
negative effects that emotional situations can have on you.

Expressing Emotions
Are you a good liar? Can you tell when someone else is lying to you?
How confident are you in your lie detection abilities? Although most of us
believe we are quite good at spotting someone else’s deception, the truth
is that our accuracy is quite poor. In order to fix this problem, researchers
attempted to create a lie detector test that measured the responses of our
autonomic nervous system. This machine, a polygraph, measures whether
heart rate and sweating increase when a person responds to different
events or questions. Sudden changes in these levels suggest that the
person is experiencing stress and may be hiding something. However,
after extensive testing, the polygraph was shown to be an inaccurate
measure of lie detection. Evidence gathered using this technique is not

admissible in Canadian courts.
Fortunately, psychologist Paul Ekman and his colleagues (1999) have
developed a new technique for lie detection. Using videotapes of several
research participants, Ekman and colleagues found that our faces give us
away when we try to lie. Although we can fake an emotional expression
within a fraction of a second, our real emotional response can be seen on
our faces before this mask is in place. Ekman called these brief
expressions of our true feelings microexpressions, and is training police
officers to detect them in order to catch criminals. But use your critical-
thinking skills for a moment: What do microexpressions really tell you?
Yes, the face is expressing someone’s inner state, and yes, it appears that
a person is concealing how they are feeling. But microexpressions cannot

tell you why they are doing so. Instead, police officers have to make
assumptions about the person’s motives based on the microexpressions
on their face.
The meaning behind facial expressions changes with subtle

modifications. For example, one version of smiling is genuine, while
another is reserved for social graces. Genuine smiles, known as
Duchenne’s smiles, involve a crinkling of muscles at the corner of the eye.
Fake smiles tend not to have this crinkling (unless you practise, which is
mildly creepy). However, even if you learn to fake your emotions, your
face can give you away. Psychologist Paul Ekman (pictured above) has
shown that our real emotional responses appear on our faces for a
fraction of a second before being covered up with our social mask.
This all sounds very dramatic, but we make assumptions about other
people’s feelings and motives all the time. It is quite rare for someone to
tell you exactly how they feel. Instead, you observe other people’s faces
and body movements in order to make an educated guess about what

thoughts and feelings are going on inside their heads. They, in turn, do
the same with you. In this section of the module, we will examine these
processes, as well as how culture can influence how emotions are
expressed and interpreted.

Emotional Faces and Bodies
Our primary method of communicating our emotional feelings is through
our facial expressions. Each of these expressions has its own unique
combination of muscle movements, such as the crinkling of muscles near
the eye (orbicularis oculi) and the movement of the mouth (zygomatic
major) during smiling. But why are certain combinations of muscle

movements associated with particular feelings? Although researchers are
still trying to solve parts of this puzzle, researchers at the University of
Toronto have highlighted some important characteristics of expressions
of fear and disgust. Imagine changing a really stinky diaper. The powerful
odour feels like it’s crawling up your nostrils. Your natural reaction is to
make a disgusted face, which involves scrunching up your nose. This
expression isn’t just for show, however. It also reduces airflow into your
nostrils, thus limiting the amount of the disgusting substance(s) that can
enter your body (Chapman et al., 2009; Susskind & Anderson, 2008).
This reaction makes evolutionary sense, as some disgusting substances

could threaten a person’s health. In contrast, when we experience fear,
our eyes open wide and we tend to inhale deeply (see Figure 11.20 ).
This is likely due to the fact that when we’re afraid, we are being
threatened and therefore need to be able to take in as much information
as possible in order to develop the best plan of action to keep ourselves
safe. These results show that the strange facial geometry that makes up
our emotional expressions is not random—our expressions have a
purpose that will enhance our ability to survive (Shariff & Tracy, 2011).
Figure 11.20 Nostril Airflow Associated with Disgust and Fear
The images depict the opening of nasal passageways during the

experience of disgust (left), a neutral emotion (centre), and fear (right).
Note that the passageways are constricted during disgust, but opened
wider during fear. This difference is reflected in the volume of airflow
breathed in during each facial expression.
Source: Susskind, J. M., Lee, D. H., Cusi, A., Feiman, R., Grabski, W., & Anderson, A. K. (2008).
Expressing fear enhances sensory acquisition. Nature Neuroscience, 11(7), 843–850. Top image is
Fig. 6c, p. 846; bottom-left image is Fig. 5b, p. 846; bottom-right image is Fig. 2a-b, p. 844.
Importantly, these expressions appear all over the world, suggesting that
they are an innate part of being human. Charles Darwin (1872) was the
first person to recognize that some facial expressions of emotion were

universal. During his extensive travels, he noted that people from
different cultures formed similar facial expressions and were able to

understand the emotions of others. In the late 1960s, Paul Ekman
performed cross-cultural studies that supported Darwin’s hypothesis.

Ekman and his colleagues photographed North Americans expressing six
basic emotions—fear, happiness, disgust, anger, surprise, and sadness.
They then travelled to an isolated region of Papua New Guinea (an island
country north of Australia) to see if individuals who were unfamiliar with
Caucasian faces could still recognize the emotions they displayed. Sure
enough, tribesmen from the Fore ethnic group were able to accurately
identify the emotions of the actors (Ekman & Friesen, 1969). The
researchers then asked the tribesmen to make their own facial
expressions for each emotion. As would be expected, research

participants in the United States were also able to recognize these
emotions.
Individuals in isolated areas of the world were able to identify the
emotions expressed by these faces, suggesting that these expressions are
universal.
Paul Ekman Group, LLC
But facial expressions aren’t our only way of communicating our

emotional states. Imagine that you are sitting across a table from
someone that you find attractive. Or what if you found the person
annoying and really wished your friend would return from the washroom
so that you could leave? Even if you didn’t express any emotion with your
face, your body would likely give away what you were feeling in both
situations. Body language provides almost as much emotional information
as facial expressions; it also activates a number of similar brain areas (de

Gelder & Hadjikhani, 2006). Researchers at Queen’s University have
created a novel method of examining body language and biological
motion. Experimental stimuli are created by attaching motion capture
sensors to different parts of people’s bodies and having them make

different movements such as walking. By averaging the types of
movements across a number of individuals, it is possible to see the
different body movement patterns of men and women, happy and sad
people, and nervous or relaxed people (Troje 2002a, 2002b, 2008).
Importantly, like the recognition of faces, detecting characteristics of body

language and body motion appears to be universal, as many of the effects
were observed in the Mundurucu indigenous people in Amazonian
regions of Brazil (Pica et al., 2011).
Culture, Emotion, and Display Rules
Despite the universality of many aspects of emotion, people raised within
a specific culture show characteristics that are specific to their region
(Elfenbein & Ambady, 2003). Put simply, cultural groups have unique
emotional dialects , or variations across cultures in how common emotions
are expressed. For example, people from North America and from Gabon
(a country in West Africa) both experience contempt. However, North
Americans are more likely to lower their brow, and Gabonese people are
more likely to raise their upper lip when expressing this emotion.
The situation or context is a major factor in determining when members

of different cultures express specific emotions. Display rules  refer to the
unwritten expectations we have regarding when it is appropriate to show a
certain emotion. Think about embarrassing situations. In North America,
we tend to blush and look away when embarrassed. In Japan, on the
other hand, people tend to smile. They aren’t happy, but do their best not
to show embarrassment. Indeed, numerous studies have documented
differences in display rules between North American and Japanese
individuals, often highlighting interesting and subtle differences. For
instance, imagine seeing someone displaying a highly intense emotion
such as a very happy face. You would probably assume that their internal
state was just as joyous as their face. Now, imagine that you see someone
expressing a low-intensity expression (e.g., a smile that is only 50% as
powerful as normal). How do you think that person is feeling? David
Matsumoto and his colleagues (2002) noticed that while American and
Japanese participants agreed about the person’s emotional state when
viewing high-intensity emotions, they differed when the emotions were
less intense. American participants assumed that the person was feeling
the emotion less strongly. Japanese participants, on the other hand,
assumed that the person felt the emotion strongly, but wasn’t in a
position to outwardly express that intensity. In other words, the Japanese
participants were assuming that the person being photographed was
obeying particular display rules that limited his or her expressiveness
(Matsumoto et al., 2002).
Point-of-light technology can be used to infer a number of characteristics

from a person’s biological motion, including his or her emotional state.
See www.biomotionlab.ca/Demos/BMLwalker.html.
Source: Troje, N. F. (2002) Decomposing biological motion: A framework for analysis and
synthesis of human gait patterns. Journal of Vision, 2, 371–387. URL: www.biomotionlab.ca/
Demos/BMLwalker.html. Prof. Dr. Nikolaus Troj/Biomotion Lab/Queen’s University
Prof. Dr. Nikolaus Troj/ Biomotion Lab/Queen’s University
Culture-specific display rules such as these can be found the world over
and show us that we need to be cautious about over-generalizing the
meaning of different displays of emotions (Elfenbein et al., 2007). It

remains to be seen whether the worldwide use of programs like
Facebook, Snapchat, and Instagram will reduce cultural differences in

display rules.
Although it may seem like cultural display rules are fairly stable, they can
vary over time. A recent examination of American high school yearbook
photos shows how cultural expectations can influence how we express

ourselves (Ginosar et al., 2015). Researchers collected over 37 000 high
school photographs and used computers to create “average photos” for

males and females in each decade since 1900. As you can see in Figure
11.21 , students at the turn of the twentieth century were expected to

remain quite serious, whereas students from the current decade (i.e.,
most of the readers of this book) were encouraged to smile happily (or to
fake it convincingly). In fact, if you take a trip to the portrait gallery of any
art museum, you’ll see that smiling when being photographed or painted
has only become commonplace in the past 50 years. This shows us that
our point in history, as well as our location on a map, can have a large
effect on our emotional display rules.
Figure 11.21
Averaged Photographs of Male and Female High School Students from 1900 to the Present Decade
Why do you think people are more emotionally expressive now than they
were 100 years ago? There are a number of possibilities, ranging from
world events, to financial stability, to how familiar (and comfortable)
people were with being photographed.
Source: Ginosar, S., Rakelly, K., Sachs, S., Yin, B., & Efros, A.A. (2015). A century of portraits: A
visual historical record of American high school yearbooks. Fig. 1 from Extreme Imaging Workshop,
International Conference on Computer Vision, ICCV.
Culture, Context, and Emotion
Understanding another person’s emotional state can also be influenced
by the context in which that emotion is being displayed. Importantly, the
role that context plays in the interpretation of others’ emotions varies
across cultures. Some cultures (e.g., Western countries) focus on the
person expressing the emotion. People in other cultures (e.g., Asian

countries) tend to also pay attention to those around the person
expressing that emotion. So, do these different ways of looking at a
situation translate into differences in how people of various cultures
interpret emotions? To answer this question, psychologists asked
students from both Western and Asian universities to judge the emotion
of the central figure in the scenes depicted in Figure 11.22 . Western
students tended to focus on the facial expression of the central figure.
Thus, if the individual was smiling, they would report he was happy, and
they did not interpret his happiness with respect to how the surrounding
people appeared to feel. In contrast, Asian students interpreted the

central figure’s emotion in reference to what people in the background
might be feeling (Masuda et al., 2008). So, in the right panel of Figure
11.22 , a Westerner might report that the central figure was happy, while
an Asian person might assume that the central figure was happy at the
expense of the other people.
Figure 11.22 How Is the Man in the Middle of These Pictures Feeling?
Source: Based on Masuda, T., Ellsworth, P.C., Mesquita, B., Leu, J., Tanida, S., & van de
Veerdonk, E. (2008). Placing the face in context: Cultural differences in the perception of facial
emotion. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 94, 365-381.
The tendency for Asian students to focus on people in the background
was further confirmed in two ways. First, Asian students were more
accurate than Western students in remembering whether they saw
specific individuals in the background. Also, using a device that tracks the
eye movements of the participants, the researchers discovered that Asian
students spent more time actually looking at the entire picture, rather
than just the central character (Figure 11.23 ; Masuda et al., 2008).
Interestingly, a subsequent study found that Canadian-born students with

Asian ancestry acted more like North American participants than
Japanese participants (Masuda et al., 2012). Together, these experiments

show us that although the perception of emotional expressions is
universal, the interpretation of why those expressions are being displayed
is very culture-dependent.
Figure 11.23 East–West Differences in Interpreting Emotion

In comparison to Asian people, Westerners spend more time looking at
the focal individual in a scene and interpret his or her emotions without
reference to surrounding individuals (Masuda et al., 2008).
Source: Based on Masuda, T., Ellsworth, P. C., Mesquita, B., Leu, J., Tanida, S., & van de
Veerdonk, E. (2008). Placing the face in context: Cultural differences in the perception of facial
emotion. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 94, 365–381. URL: https://sites.ualberta.ca/
~tmasuda/index.files/MasudaEllsworthMesquitaLeuTanidavandeVeerdonk2008.pdf
Module 11.4 Summary
11.4a Know . . . the key terminology associated with emotion.
Review Module 11.4
11.4b Understand . . . how the nervous system responds to

emotions.
Our biological responses to emotions occur in many different parts of our

nervous system. Our brain has a rapid-response system involving the
amygdala, which can fire within a few hundred milliseconds. This system
triggers activity in other brain areas and influences how much attention a
stimulus will receive. Our sympathetic nervous system also responds
quickly. Soon after, brain and spinal cord areas related to movement
become active in order to prepare us for a response. Finally, frontal lobe
regions examine the situation to determine whether we should continue
the emotional response or change our behaviour to conserve energy.
11.4c Understand . . . cultural similarities and differences in

emotional expressions.
Emotions such as fear, anger, happiness, sadness, surprise, and disgust
appear to be human universals—all people experience them regardless of
culture. At the same time, we cannot completely explain human emotions
without references to cultural variation in the form of dialects and display
rules.
11.4d Apply . . . your knowledge of theories of emotion to new

examples.
Apply Activity
Try this exercise. Spend 10 seconds looking at the Sanskrit figure on the
left in Figure 11.24  while slowly nodding your head. Now, spend about
10 seconds looking at the figure on the right while slowly moving your
head from side to side.
Figure 11.24 Application of Emotion Theories

Now, imagine that you had to choose one image to display on the wall of
your home. Which one would you choose—the one on the left or the one
on the right?
What is important about this exercise is not which figure you chose.
Rather, it is the application of emotion theories to the problem. Consider

the facial feedback study, and try to explain how the head movements
could potentially influence one’s preference for a symbol. This module

provided examples of what researchers have found using similar
techniques.
11.4e Analyze . . . what purpose(s) facial expressions serve?
Facial expressions allow us to show the outside world what we are
feeling. But they serve other functions as well. For instance, facial
expressions of disgust actually restrict the amount of air entering the
body, possibly to protect us from contaminants. Expressions of fear serve

to increase the amount of sensory information available to us, thus
helping us to select the most appropriate response to that stimulus or
situation.
Chapter 12
Personality
12.1 Contemporary Approaches to Personality
Idiographic vs. Nomothetic Approaches
Beyond the Big Five: The Personality of Evil?
Personality Traits over the Lifespan
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Right-Wing
Authoritarianism at the Group Level
Behaviourist and Social-Cognitive Perspectives
Module 12.1 Summary
12.2 Cultural and Biological Approaches to Personality
Culture and Personality
How Genes Affect Personality
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: From Molecules to
Personality
The Role of Evolution in Personality
The Brain and Personality
Module 12.2 Summary
12.3 Psychodynamic and Humanistic Approaches to Personality

The Psychodynamic Perspective
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Perceiving Others as a
Projective Test
Alternatives to the Psychodynamic Approach
Module 12.3 Summary

Module 12.1 Contemporary
Approaches to Personality
Pearson Education
12.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with contemporary
approaches to personality.
12.1b Understand . . . the behaviourist and social-cognitive views of
personality.
12.1c Apply . . . self-report methods to understand your own
personality.
12.1d Analyze . . . the personality roots of violence and prejudice.
12.1e Analyze . . . the relative roles of personality traits and

psychological and physical states in determining behaviour.
What does your living space say about you? That alphabetized
bookshelf and bathroom full of grooming products suggest
conscientiousness. The photos of Mount Everest and major European

cities reveal an openness to experiencing new and exciting things. The
three pet cats and tall shelves full of books? Possibly signs of an
introverted homebody.
It might sound like we are just making assumptions here, but scientific
research backs up the notion that personality can be measured by

examining the details of our dwellings. Psychologist Sam Gosling and
his students have, with permission, closely scrutinized people’s offices

and bedrooms for clues about their personality (Gosling, 2008; Gosling
et al., 2002). Teams of seven or eight observers entered people’s

bedrooms and offices and rated the personality types of the occupants
with a standardized personality test. Not only did the observers reach
close consensus on many measures of personality, but their ratings also
matched up with how the occupants rated their own personality. In
addition to our living spaces, our “digital traces,” comprising our online
activity, can similiarly be used by others to provide relatively accurate
personality assessments (Hinds & Joinson, 2019).

If you look around your own room, some parts of it may symbolize the
“core” of who you are, whereas others reflect less “deep,” more
superficial details about yourself. For example, your book collection and
most treasured belongings may be very revealing, but what about the
clothing strewn all over the floor? Does it mean that you are a lazy slob?
Or that you are ambitious and live a busy life? Or simply that you are
enjoying the freedom of not living with your parents? Which is more
appropriate as an explanation: the dispositional (i.e., rooted in the kind
of person you are) or the situational (i.e., external, circumstantial
factors)? A key challenge for personality psychologists is figuring out

how our personalities and circumstances work together in shaping our
behaviour. This raises some important questions that we will address

in this module.
When you say to your friend, “Yeah, our date was okay, but you know,
they weren’t my kind of person,” we understand that “my kind of person”
means something. We accept that the person being described is some

“kind of person”—that they have regular patterns and ways of being.
What you are referring to is that individual’s personality ; their

characteristic pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving that is unique to each
individual, and remains relatively consistent over time and situations.

Psychologists have long searched for a theory of personality that can
describe and explain how people develop these patterns, because we all
want to find out what “kind of person” we are.
Idiographic vs. Nomothetic Approaches
If there are semi-stable patterns that differ from person to person, how
can we measure those patterns? This quest to shine the light of science on
the very nature of our own selves has resulted in two broad approaches
to personality measurement: the idiographic approach and the nomothetic
approach.
When you try to figure out the people you know very well, you probably
intuitively adopt an idiographic approach , focusing on creating detailed
descriptions of a specific person’s unique personality characteristics. So,
imagine you are writing a few paragraphs to nominate a favourite
professor for a leadership award. You might build a theory of the way that
they are, the way their personal experiences or their work history has
affected them, and the idiosyncrasies that make them do the special
things they do. In doing so, you are taking an idiographic approach,
although an intuitive rather than scientific one. Sometimes we see the
idiographic approach taken to help us better understand a single,
influential person. For example, psychologists used a variety of
biographical, interview, and archival methods to describe the personality
of B. F. Skinner, the eminent behavioural psychologist discussed in

Module 6.2  (Overskeid et al., 2012). He was what you might expect
from a dedicated professor and scientist: highly motivated, detail-
oriented, and fascinated by questions of science and philosophy.
Surprising was the discovery that he was charming and had a good sense
of humour, which is not something that came across very well in

photographs and caricatures of a man in a white lab coat spending his
days watching pigeons peck for grain.
Idiographic approaches can be used to examine the full range of human
experience, from the most disturbed to the healthiest and most highly
functioning individuals. For example, criminal profilers may focus on a
detailed study of a serial killer in order to help police in their
investigation. At the other extreme, Abraham Maslow wanted to
understand the people who had lived up to their fullest potential, who
were, in Maslow’s terms, “self-actualized.” Accordingly, Maslow

performed detailed analyses of the biographies of famous people who
were widely regarded as being wise and fully functioning (Maslow, 1970).
Maslow’s findings launched decades of work trying to uncover what
makes human beings thrive and develop to their maximum potential.
In contrast, psychologists who take a nomothetic approach  examine
personality in large groups of people, with the aim of making generalizations
about personality structure. Rather than trying to understand a specific
person, psychologists taking a nomothetic approach may want to

understand what personality factors, or traits, are relevant to
understanding people in general. For example, the concept of extraversion

is a nomothetic trait because it can be used to describe everyone; any
given individual will be somewhere between not at all extraverted to

extremely extraverted, and most of us will be somewhere in the middle.
Psychologists have identified many of these traits so, now, they can use
traits for nomothetic research questions. For example, wanting to know
whether a certain “type” of person is more likely to exhibit a certain

behaviour pattern (e.g., are people who are extraverted more likely to
develop attentional disorders?) is a nomothetic question. Answering a
question like this requires measuring some specific variable (e.g.,

extraversion) and examining whether it correlates with specific outcomes
(e.g., attentional disorders). The key to nomothetic research is to identify

the important personality traits that are related to whatever it is that you
are interested in understanding.
Review Measuring Extraversion
Source: International Personality Item Pool. http://ipip.ori.org/newNEOKey.htm#Extraversion.
There are many examples of nomothetic research in Canadian
universities. Dr. Gordon Flett at York University has examined

personality predictors of alcohol, drug use, and depression in university
students (e.g., Flett et al., 2009; Goldstein et al., 2009; Goldstein & Flett,
2009). Lawrence Walker at the University of British Columbia has sought
to identify the “moral personality,” seeking the personality factors that

predict courage and heroism (Walker & Frimer, 2007; Walker et al.,
2010). Jacob Hirsh at the University of Toronto has examined the

personality predictors of pro-environmental motivations (Hirsh, 2010;
Hirsh & Dolderman, 2007). Taking a nomothetic approach allows

psychologists to examine what types of people are more or less likely to
engage in certain behaviours, which is an important step toward being
able to reduce undesired behaviours or more effectively promote desired

ones.
The Trait Approach
What kind of person are you? Take a moment to complete the sentence “I
am . . .” a few times. Now take a look at your list. If you’re like most
people, your list probably has quite a few personality traits, many of
which have contrasting terms—words like extraverted or introverted, funny
or serious, ambitious or lazy, or perhaps anxious or easygoing. A personality

trait  describes a specific psychological characteristic that makes up part of a
person’s personality; how that person is “most of the time.” Trait
descriptors are useful as shortcuts to understanding people. Traits
summarize a great deal of information about a person and help to predict
how that person will behave across a range of situations. For example, an
“extraverted” person is more likely to be comfortable in social situations,
go to parties, and have a large number of friends than someone who is
“introverted.”
Early Trait Research
As you can imagine, many different traits could be used to describe
people, such as “shy,” “cheerful,” “outgoing,” and “adventurous.” The first
systematic attempt to identify all possible traits (in the English language)
was made in the 1930s by Gordon Allport, who tallied nearly 18 000
English words that could be used to describe an individual’s physical and

psychological attributes (Allport & Odbert, 1936). (Based on this limited
evidence, we wonder whether Allport himself would be described as
“patient,” “methodical,” and “weird to talk to at a party.”) Allport then
developed a theory of personality structure by organizing these words
into traits, launching a strong trend in personality psychology that

continues to this day—attempting to identify and measure the key
personality traits.
To accomplish this, trait researchers have devised many types of
personality “scales.” Some, like the ones used in psychology research and
described later in this chapter, are rigorously evaluated. Others, like the
ones you find in popular magazines, are of questionable value. For
example, Cosmopolitan regularly includes personality scales in which you
can discover all sorts of things about yourself; while it is possible that
Cosmo has a team of highly qualified psychologists rigorously designing
these scales, we do not recommend that you base your life decisions on
your results in the “Are You Enough of a Bad Girl?” quiz.

It is clear that people love to know what “kind” of person they are.
However, it is often easier to make people believe that you are measuring
their personality than it is to actually measure it. In fact, it is remarkably
easy for people to be convinced that a personality profile describes them
well. This can occur even when the profile is patently false and was not
generated to describe them at all. This phenomenon is popularly known
as “the Barnum effect,” after the circus showman P. T. Barnum, due to his
apparent statement “there’s a sucker born every minute.” (Ironically, P. T.
Barnum never actually said this quote, which is widely attributed to him
[Saxon, 1989].) The Barnum effect hearkens back to the late 1940s, when
psychologist Bertram Forer gave research participants a personality test
and then generated a personality description that subjects believed was
based on their test responses. Even though all participants were given
exactly the same personality description, they found the profile to be
highly convincing and descriptive of them as an individual. When asked
to rate how well the profile described them, on a scale ranging from 0
(very poor) to 5 (excellent), the average rating was an impressive 4.26
(Forer, 1949)!
As you can see from the profile Forer used (see Table 12.1 ), the
statements were fairly general and most of them could apply to most
people, at least some of the time. It is easy for people to see themselves in
statements such as “While you have some personality weaknesses, you

are generally able to compensate for them,” and of course, just about
everybody tends to be extraverted sometimes and introverted other times,

or to have unrealistic goals. The Barnum effect may be a key reason why
personality tests of questionable validity (as well as horoscopes,

astrologers, psychics, and the like) are so widely believed.
Table 12.1 Bertram Forer’s Personality Profile

Source: Forer, B. R. (1949). The fallacy of personal validation: A classroom demonstration of
gullibility. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 44, 118–123.
In contrast, rigorous empirical research over the past several decades has
narrowed the many potential personality traits into a small number of
factors. The statistical technique called factor analysis  is used to group

items that people respond to similarly; for instance, the terms friendly, warm,
and kind have similar meanings, and can be grouped in a cluster, referred
to as a factor. Once we identify the items that cluster together, we can
name the factor to indicate that all of the traits are referring to more or
less the same thing: friendly, warm, and kind may be viewed as three
different ways of describing a factor we may call “friendliness.”

The Five Factor Model
Using factor analysis, psychologist Raymond Cattell (1946) narrowed the
list of key personality traits to 16, thereby simplifying and standardizing
the number of dimensions psychologists needed to describe the
composition of personality. Forty years later, McCrae and Costa (1987)
created the Five Factor Model (FFM) , a trait-based theory of personality

based on the finding that personality can be described using five major
dimensions; this model has become the most popular trait-based approach
for academic personality researchers, and has been cited in hundreds of
research articles.
To understand the Big Five traits, consider what characteristics are
associated with people high and low on that trait. These are the “kinds of
people” described by each trait (see Figure 12.1 ).
Figure 12.1 The Big Five Personality Dimensions

A widely used measure of personality is the NEO Personality Inventory
(NEO-PI-R). Individuals rate themselves on multiple questions that reflect
the traits of openness, conscientiousness, extraversion, agreeableness,
and neuroticism. (To help you remember the Big Five, note that the first
letters of the traits spell out OCEAN.)
Source: Based on McCrae, R. R., & Costa, P. (1987). Validation of the Five-Factor Model of
personality across instruments and observers. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 52(1), 81–
90.
Openness
Individuals high in openness (high Os) would likely show greater
curiosity and creativity. As a result, they may hold beliefs that would be
considered unconventional. In contrast, individuals low in openness (low
Os) may defend the status quo and prefer the conventional.
Conscientiousness
Highly conscientious people (high Cs) tend to be organizers—efficient,
self-disciplined, punctual, and dependable. High Cs are often great
employees and students in fields such as engineering and accounting,

where attention to detail is paramount. On the other hand, highly
conscientious people may be more likely to experience negative stress on

the job and are preoccupied with order and perfection (Bastiaansen et al.,
2011; Cianci et al., 2010). Their counterparts with Low Cs tend to be less
organized and detail oriented.
Extraversion
Extraverts (high Es) are the socializers and sensation seekers. Extraverts
tend to be more assertive, talkative, and enthusiastic, preferring high
levels of stimulation and excitement much of the time. Introverts (low Es)
are the quiet ones. Although they may seek social contact, introverts also
need alone time, especially if they’ve been overwhelmed by the high
levels of stimulation at social functions.
Agreeableness
Highly agreeable people (high As) seek to have people get along well and
keep conflicts to a minimum. To some extent, their agreeableness comes
from valuing harmony with others and a willingness to put their own
interests aside in order to please others. However, agreeableness may be
more about avoiding the discomfort of arguments and disagreements

than with pleasing others. As you might expect, they can make great
roommates or coworkers by trying to please you. However, a lack of

assertiveness can hold them back in some ways, such as slowing career
advancement in a competitive workplace (Bozionelos et al., 2014). At the

other end of the scale, Low As are the type who value being authentic
more than maintaining agreeable harmony. Although it would be easy to
interpret this as being argumentative and mean-spirited, being a Low A is

not the same as being disagreeable. Some very polite scholars, attorneys,
and even sports fans can have fierce debates and walk away unscathed—
disagreeing is perfectly normal to a Low A.
Neuroticism
People high in neuroticism (high Ns) are often difficult to deal with. They
may have strong reactions to negative events, or even neutral events that
they manage to interpret negatively. They are prone to bad moods and
can dwell on perceived flaws or injustices. Low Ns, on the other hand,
tend to be secure and confident, and let go of negative emotions easily.
Rather than blowing things out of proportion, the low Ns take the good
with the bad, and deal with problems as they arise, but feel no need to
create problems where there aren’t any, or to obsessively look for

problems until they find them. Low Ns tend to be successful at managing
their emotions, and are regarded by others as “stable.”
Ratings of “high” or “low” on any of the Big Five factors can easily be
construed as “good” or “bad,” such as being “high N” or “low E.”

However, this is not necessarily a lesson that should be taken from
research on the Big Five, as the “optimal” level for healthy psychological
functioning may be somewhere in the midpoint of these personality
factors (Carter et al., 2018). Taken together, the Big Five factors are useful
for understanding people’s behaviours, thoughts, and emotions.
Nevertheless, despite the usefulness of the Big Five, psychologists often
find that there are other personality traits, outside of the Big Five, that are
useful for understanding certain things, such as why people do things that
many of us would consider evil.
Psych@
Work
For many jobs, successful completion of specific tasks is just
one metric of an employee’s value to a company or
organization. Employees also work within a system that relies
on attributes such as leadership and cooperation, which are
qualities that relate to personality traits. An employee could be

stellar in their ability to remember all of the details of each and
every electronic device on the sales floor, but if they refuse to
work well with others on the sales team, the organization and
its employees suffer. Industrial and organizational (I/O)

psychologists (described in Module 1.2 ) specialize in
maximizing productivity in the workplace by intelligent
selection and training of employees, and by recommending
incentives and working conditions that enhance productivity,
as well as physical and mental health. I/O psychologists

administer numerous tests and scales to assess whether job
applicants are suited for a particular job, and how they may
best fit within an organization. Of course, there are many kinds
of jobs available. Being a team player (e.g., agreeable) might

not be as important to a self-employed individual who spends
their entire day writing code. However, for most jobs, ranging
from construction work to health care, psychologists have
found that high levels of conscientiousness, agreeableness,
and emotional stability predict employee and organizational

success (Sackett & Walmsley, 2014). It may sound like a cliché
to say that the most important resource for a company is its
workforce, but research and practice in IO psychology has
provided scientific evidence to back it up.

Beyond the Big Five: The Personality of
Evil?
It is both tragic and baffling to contemplate truly destructive human
behaviours: child abuse, wartime atrocities, the Holocaust, 9/11. The
more horror we allow ourselves to contemplate, the more we must ask
why? Why do people do such terrible things?
Following World War II, such questions were a major focus in personality
psychology, as the world wanted to understand the rise of fascism and
Hitler’s ability to mobilize millions of people to carry out his plans of
destruction. Early research by Theodore Adorno suggested that a key
personality type, the authoritarian personality, was a big piece of the

puzzle. Authoritarians were theorized to be rigid and dogmatic in their
thinking, to separate their social world into strict categories of Us and
Them, and then to believe strongly in the superiority of Us and the
inferiority of Them. As a result, authoritarians were more likely to endorse
and engage in prejudice and violence, particularly toward people in the
Them category (Adorno et al., 1950). Although there is some overlap

between this construct and other, related personality factors (e.g.,
openness to experience), over the past several decades, personality
researchers have discovered important personality traits that extend the
Five Factor Model and help to shed light on the problem of human “evil.”
Honesty–Humility
Researchers at Brock University have developed the HEXACO model of
personality , a six-factor theory that generally replicates the five factors of the
FFM and adds one additional factor: Honesty–Humility. Individuals scoring
highly on this factor (high HHs) tend to be sincere, honest, and modest,
whereas those with low scores (low HHs) are deceitful, greedy, and
pompous (Ashton & Lee, 2007). Whereas high HHs are more likely to
perform altruistic, pro-social behaviours, low HHs have more selfish,
anti-social, and violent tendencies (Ashton & Lee, 2008; de Vries & van
Kampen, 2010), being more likely to “do whatever it takes” to get what
they want, to manipulate others, and to break the rules (Bourdage et al.,
2007). Interestingly, low HHs feel a strong sense of self-importance and a
feeling of entitlement, like they deserve to have their desires fulfilled.
Thus, the HEXACO model seems to describe “evil” as placing an
excessive importance on the self, and none placed on the other (except in
terms of how the other can be used to further the goals of the self).
The Dark Triad
A different set of research studies conducted at the University of British
Columbia has uncovered three traits that are believed to be central to
understanding the personality roots of evil. This Dark Triad —
Machiavellianism, psychopathy, and narcissism—describe a person who is
socially destructive, aggressive, dishonest, and likely to commit harm in general

(Paulhus & Williams, 2002). Taken together, these traits also describe a
person who gives excessive importance to the self, and little to no
importance to others.
Machiavellianism is a tendency to use people and to be manipulative and

deceitful, lacking respect for others and focusing predominantly on their
own self-interest. Relationships are approached strategically, using other
people for how they might be able to provide some sort of benefit to the
self.
Psychopathy is a general tendency toward having shallow emotional
responses. Individuals scoring high in psychopathy veer toward highly
stimulating activities and tend to feel little empathy for others. They often
get a thrill out of conflict, exerting control, or even harming others, and
feel little remorse for their actions.
Narcissism reflects an egotistical preoccupation with self-image and an
excessive sense of self-importance. The extreme narcissist is “full of
himself” (or herself). In Greek legend, the hunter Narcissus was filled
with excessive pride and adoration toward himself. This was his fatal
flaw, however, as he was so transfixed by his own gaze reflecting in a
pool of water that he died by the poolside, still staring at his reflection.
Narcissists can often be charming, but are difficult to have as relationship
partners because they tend to always put themselves first rather than
considering their partner’s needs.
Considering these traits separately yields some important insights; for
example, people high on different traits may become aggressive for
different reasons (Jones & Paulhus, 2010). But their real power comes
when you consider them all together. The convergence of these three
factors, the Dark Triad, strongly predicts anti-social tendencies. People
who score highly on all three of the Dark Triad traits are substantially
more likely to commit harm to others, having little empathy or other
constraints to prevent them from doing so. Finally, as compelling as the
Dark Triad appears to be, it should be noted that personality
psychologists are not unanimous in their belief that the three traits that
comprise it are truly distinct from existing models of personality, such as
HEXACO or the Big Five (Muris et al., 2017). Others suggest that the
Dark Triad should be amended to include sadistic personality (Mededović
& Petrovic, 2015), which can be found in people lurking in our everyday
encounters.
#Psych
Internet Trolls
Not everyone behaves the same online as they do in person.

Internet trolls, the primary perpetuators of uncivil online
behaviour, seem to thrive on the discomfort and misery they

impose upon others. They seem to permanently lurk in the
comment sections of news, political, social media, and just
about any other type of website that allows people to exchange

thoughts, information, and opinions (probably the ultimate bait
for trolls). So what is the personality of a troll? You might think

you could answer this question with intuition, but there is much
about personality psychology that can only be understood
through scientific study. Dr Erin Buckels, a Canadian

researcher, has become an expert on the study of internet
trolling, and the underlying personality characteristics of these

perpetrators. In one study, Buckels and her colleagues (2018)
queried research participants about their internet trolling

habits (you can take a version of the questionnaire at the end
of this module) and then tested them on their tendencies

toward sadistic behaviour. Someone behaving sadistically
derives pleasure from the suffering of others, particularly

innocent individuals. Participants viewed pictures of people
under emotional and physical duress and rated the level of pain
the subjects were experiencing. The participants were also

asked whether they experienced pleasure in viewing the
photos. Buckels and colleagues found that participants who

were the most likely to troll on the internet were also more
likely to demonstrate sadistic personality tendencies, including

minimizing the pain experienced by other people and deriving
pleasure from viewing it. The anonymous cover provided by the

internet removes a layer of inhibition that might hold everyday
sadistic behaviour in check.

Right-Wing Authoritarianism
In another line of research into the causes of evil behaviour, Bob
Altemeyer at the University of Manitoba has identified Right-Wing
Authoritarianism (RWA)  as a problematic set of personality characteristics
that also predisposes people to certain types of violent or anti-social tendencies.
RWA involves three key tendencies:
1. obeying orders and deferring to the established authorities in a
society;
2. supporting aggression against those who dissent or differ from
the established social order; and

3. believing strongly in maintaining the existing social order.
(Altemeyer, 1996)
At the centre of the RWA personality is a strong tendency to think in
dogmatic terms, where, metaphorically speaking, everything is either

black or white, with no shades of grey. RWAs tend to hold strong beliefs
and are highly resistant to changing them (Altemeyer, 1996). They are
generally more prejudiced, tending to negatively judge people who hold
different perspectives from them (see Module 13.2 ). As a result, RWAs
are likely to advocate a harsh stance toward people who deviate from the
established social order, such as political activists, feminists, atheists, and
members of ethnic minorities (Goodman & Moradi, 2008; Haddock et al.,
1993; Narby et al., 1993). Given their unquestioning acceptance of
authority figures, high RWAs are more likely to agree with unethical
decisions made by leaders (Son Hing et al., 2007) and to have positive
attitudes toward corrupt governments (Altemeyer, 1996).
As a result of these tendencies, high RWA individuals were likely
instrumental in the rise of fascism that led to World War II, and will likely
play important roles in the repressive dictatorships, destructive business
practices, and unhealthy family structures of the future. Right-Wing
Authoritarianism is currently on the rise at a global scale, not just within
portions of North America (Norris & Inglehart, 2019).
The theory of Right-Wing Authoritarianism also shares with the previous
two theories an emphasis on people placing excessive emphasis on their
own self-importance. In the case of RWA, this tendency manifests as
excessive certainty and unwavering conviction in their personal opinions,
coupled with strong in-group favouritism and beliefs that are prejudiced
and derogatory toward members of other “out-groups.”

Right-Wing Authoritarianism at the Group

Level
What do we know about RWA?

As we just discussed, personality researchers have identified
RWA as a cluster of characteristics that make society a less warm
and friendly place, being related to generally harmful tendencies
such as holding prejudiced views against other groups and an

excessive and closed-minded allegiance to societal conventions.
It’s relatively easy to imagine how people who are high in RWA
might end up behaving in social situations. But it’s another thing
entirely to consider what could happen in situations involving
lots of people high in RWA. When a group of closed-minded,

prejudiced, violence-prone individuals get together, what could
possibly go wrong?
How can science determine how RWA affects

groups?
In one fascinating and highly disturbing study, Altemeyer (1996)
selected high- and low-RWA participants to play a complex role-
playing simulation of Earth’s future, called the Global Change
Game. This game is generally played by 50 to 70 people who are
organized into groups that represent different regions of the
world; these groups then make decisions about how their region
behaves on the international stage. For example, participants

decide how their region will deal with problems such as
environmental degradation, poverty, overpopulation, and
military threats. The simulated conditions of Earth change
depending on the actions of the players, thus providing a fairly
realistic simulation of the challenges of governance in the
international community.
In order to test how RWAs play the game, Altemeyer ran through
the game twice, once with 67 individuals who scored very low on
the RWA scale, and once with 68 people who scored very high.
Each simulation covered 40 years of time into Earth’s future. The
results were, frankly, astonishing.
In the low-RWA group, there were no wars or military build-up
over the 40-year time period. Instead, regions steadily downsized
their militaries and diverted the money into humanitarian and
environmental projects. They also collectively resolved
challenges through international meetings and cooperation. At
one point, a global crisis occurred due to a threat to the Earth’s
ozone layer. Players responded by holding a group meeting, and

agreeing to make large investments in technology development
so that they could collectively solve the problem. By the end of

the game, food, health services, and jobs were provided for
almost all people on Earth, resulting in a peaceful, stable world.
In the high-RWA group, players tended to interpret the actions of
others as aggressive and responded in kind. Militaries quickly

grew and war ensued, leading to a global nuclear war that wiped
out every human being on the planet. At this point, the players
were given a second chance to play, starting at a point prior to
the nuclear war. Despite having the chance to learn from their
earlier mistakes, the players nevertheless were incapable of
getting along with each other. When the ozone crisis occurred,
no international summit was called and only one region took
action to avert the crisis. Instead of cooperation, players
remained suspicious of each other and rapidly developed their

militaries. One major military conflict killed 400 million people,
and players poured so much money into military expenses that

devastating social and environmental problems were never dealt
with. At the end of the 40-year period, the world was again
divided into armed camps on the brink of all-out war.
At the very least, this simulation suggests that we have to

consider not only how factors like RWA operate in isolation, but
how they operate in interaction with other people in real

situations. Studying how personality characteristics operate on
more collective scales is a major new frontier for the personality

field that needs further exploration. It also suggests that we need
to think carefully, as a society, about the personality
characteristics of the people we allow into positions of power.

These simulations suggest quite strongly that if several highly
authoritarian leaders ended up in some sort of conflict, they may

be highly prone to escalating conflicts to acts of extreme violence.

There are several methodological limitations to this study that
should be taken into consideration when evaluating the findings.
First, there are external validity concerns; for example, playing a

game with no real consequences does not necessarily indicate
how people would respond in a real-life situation. It is possible

that in a real situation, people would be more sensitive to the
consequences of their actions and would not be so willing to risk

human lives. Furthermore, the simulations were only performed
on one night with each group; therefore, results could have been
due to chance factors, such as particular individuals having a
strong impact on the outcomes. Also, because only university

students participated in the study, the results may not generalize
to the rest of the population. Obviously, this was not a highly
controlled set of studies, and the findings must therefore be

interpreted very cautiously. However, as a case study of this
particular type of competitive circumstance involving high- and
low-RWAs, the results remain quite alarming and suggestive.

This research illustrates the highly destructive impact that
authoritarian personalities may have in group settings, and it
sounds a clear warning bell in the 21st century. We are living in a
time in which our world faces unprecedented challenges that

require international cooperation, yet intolerance and intergroup
hostilities are rampant and ideological fundamentalism and
fanaticism heavily influence politics in many countries. Greater

understanding of the potential roots of intergroup hostility in
individuals’ personalities is urgently needed at this time.
Personality Traits over the Lifespan
Have you ever looked back on something you wrote several years ago,
perhaps in a diary or journal, and wondered, “Who was that person who
wrote these things?” Or maybe you have looked back at someone you
once dated and wondered, “Who was I when I chose to date that person?
It certainly wasn’t ‘me’!” One of the most fascinating issues in personality

psychology is whether we stay basically the same, or whether our
fundamental personalities change as we age.

Temperaments
A mountain of research from different areas within psychology has
revealed considerable stability in our personalities. In fact, given the large
genetic contribution to personality factors, our personalities start
developing even before we are born, so could be expected to remain
largely stable over time (Plomin & Caspi, 1999; Yamagata et al., 2006).
In child development studies, researchers have found that infants possess
different temperaments right from birth, which also supports the view that
the seeds of our personalities are present right from the start. Infants
display their temperamental differences along dimensions such as activity

level, mood, attention span, and distractibility (Rothbart & Bates, 2006;
Thomas & Chess, 1977). As most parents with multiple children can
attest, children come “hard-wired” to be a certain way. Some infants are
generally active and happy, whereas others are more tranquil, and still
others are easily upset. So, if you’re a parent pulling your hair out with
your chronically distressed child who seems impossible to deal with,
don’t judge yourself too harshly. Remind yourself that infants have
different temperaments and your power as a parent is small compared to
the power of their genes.
Thus, temperament seems to represent an innate, biological foundation
upon which personality is built. This foundation, combined with the
genetic research, suggests that personality traits should be stable over
time. To some extent, research confirms that this is the case: Infant
temperament predicts the adult personality traits of neuroticism,
extraversion, and conscientiousness (Evans & Rothbart, 2007).
One amazing study that followed the same children from age three until
adulthood showed that temperament at three years of age was strongly
predictive of behavioural tendencies, personality, and life outcomes many
years later (Caspi, 2000). Three main temperaments were identified:
Well-adjusted. Capable of self-control, confident, not overly upset by
new people or situations

Under-controlled. Impulsive, restless, distractible, emotionally
volatile.
Inhibited. Socially uncomfortable, fearful, easily upset by strangers.
Just over 10 years later, children of different temperaments had
developed quite different behaviour patterns. The under-controlled
children (relative to the other groups) had become the most likely to
engage in externalizing behaviours (fighting, lying, disobeying), whereas
the inhibited children developed mainly internalizing behaviour patterns

(e.g., worrying, crying easily). By age 18, their emerging adult
personalities were reflections of their temperaments at age three.

Is Personality Stable over Time?
There are a number of factors—both behavioural and biological—that
make personality stable over time. Personality processes tend to become
self-perpetuating; personality traits that lead to behaviours that receive
positive reinforcement are more likely to become stable characteristics of
that individual (Heatherton & Weinberger, 1994). As an example, take

the personality factor of conscientiousness. As we discussed earlier,
highly conscientious people will tend to be organized, punctual, and
dependable; they are therefore more likely to succeed, be respected by
others, and create professional opportunities for themselves. Their
successes then feed back to reinforce personality type.
However, research has also shown that personality can change,
particularly in late adolescence and early adulthood. For example, young
adults tend to experience fewer negative emotions than do adolescents,
reflecting decreases in neuroticism. Also, conscientiousness,

agreeableness, and social dominance (an aspect of extraversion) all
increase in early adulthood (Roberts et al., 2006; see Figure 12.2 ). Take
a moment and consider why personalities change in these systematic
ways over time. One likely explanation is that, over time, our
environments change and so do the roles we play in those environments.
For example, adults have to be more conscientious than children because
they have so many more responsibilities—like taking care of their
unconscientious children! In contrast to conscientiousness, openness
tends to decline in middle and old age, especially among adults who tend
to avoid engaging in new cultural activities (Schwaba, et al., 2018). Over
time there are many such changes—in our environments, our social roles,
the amount of choice and power we have, the sophistication of our
thinking processes, the development of our bodies and brains, and many
other things—so there may be many reasons why personalities change
over time.
Figure 12.2 Personality Stability and Change over the Lifespan
Average scores of Big Five traits change over the lifespan. Generally, most
traits become more positive through adulthood, although there are
anomalies. Social dominance (an aspect of extraversion) remains stable
after age 40. Conscientiousness does not begin rising until after the
traditional college years. Openness to experience only rises up to the
traditional college years, then remains largely stable until old age, when it
declines (Roberts et al., 2006).
Source: Based on Roberts, B., Walton, K., & Viechtbauer, W. (2006). Patterns of mean-level
change in personality traits across the life-course: A meta-analysis of longitudinal studies.
Psychological Bulletin, 132(1), 1–25.
Nevertheless, even these data describe a kind of personality stability, in
that although people’s personality traits may fluctuate over time, their
rank ordering in the population remains very stable. That is, a 25-year-old
who is more extraverted than other twentysomethings is likely to

someday be a 65-year-old who is more extraverted than other people in
their 60s. This approximate ranking seems to remain in place over time,
even though the overall level of extraversion may change over that time
period (McCrae & Costa, 1990).

Personality Traits and States
Trait labels may go a long way toward describing what people are like.
However, many psychologists are quick to point out that no matter how
useful traits may seem, people’s behaviour is also determined by
situational factors and context. You may know someone whom you
would describe as very calm and tranquil, yet one day he curses and
screams at other drivers on the road. In contrast to a personality trait, a
state  is a temporary physical or psychological engagement that influences
behaviour. Perhaps your normally calm friend lashed out at other drivers
on the road because he was criticized earlier that day or made a mistake
that made him feel foolish, and so he was defensively displacing his bad
feelings onto other people. Even people who seem highly consistent in
how they express their neuroticism, agreeableness, or extraversion will
not behave in the same way across all situations, and this observation has
led to some strong criticisms of trait theories of personality (Mischel,
1968; Mischel & Shoda, 1998). However, we generally understand now

that states and traits work together; traits describe a person’s general
personality tendencies, whereas states describe what that person is like in
specific sets of circumstances.
The specific ways in which states and situational factors interact to
influence us is a challenging topic that research has only begun to scratch
the surface of. Try to think of the number of different situations or states
you find yourself in across any average day. For example, you can be
awake, asleep, or half-asleep; happy; sad; excited; skeptical;

embarrassed; confident; or unsure of yourself. You could be having a
crisis or you could be completely relaxed. The list could go on forever—
and as you might have guessed, psychologists have tried to see just how
long it gets. In one study, 77 college students were asked to describe as
many situations as they could that they might encounter. Their total
reached more than 7000. Perhaps you can now see why many
psychologists would rather focus on five personality dimensions.
Fortunately, Saucier and colleagues (2007) took these 7000 situations and
reduced them to four general aspects of situations that are most likely to
influence our behaviour:
1. Locations (e.g., being at work, school, or home)
2. Associations (e.g., being with friends, alone, or with family)
3. Activities (e.g., awake, rushed, studying)
4. Subjective states (e.g., mad, sick, drunk, happy)
These situations influence how and when our personality traits are
expressed. Identifying these situations is important because they interact
with personality traits to determine our behaviour. If you think that other
situational factors could be added to this list you are not alone. For
example, you might behave differently if a situation you were in had

important, personal consequences, rather than being trivial. Or situations
can bring about adversity, and how you respond might depend more on
the circumstance rather than a stable personality trait. Because
personality psychologists grapple with such an extraordinarily complex

aspect of human behaviour, they naturally have different ways of
conceptualizing situations (Rauthman et al., 2015).

Behaviourist and Social-Cognitive
Perspectives
You probably didn’t have much trouble understanding the trait
perspective to personality. Indeed, using traits to describe people is
something we do regularly, particularly in Western cultures. However,
the trait approach does tend to reinforce certain assumptions that other
psychologists have called into question. Most importantly, the trait

approach reinforces the assumption that we carry our personality
characteristics around inside us. We treat traits like they are “things” that
we “have,” which then influence our thoughts, feelings, and behaviours.
This approach does not examine how personalities are influenced by our
experiences.
The Behaviourist Perspective
The behaviourist would note any identifiable patterns of behaviour and
seek to understand how that behaviour was elicited by specific
environmental conditions. Notable psychologist B. F. Skinner, for
example, believed that “personality” is simply a description of the
response tendencies that occur in different situations. For example, when

with a group of people, your behavioural responses to that situation
might include dominating the conversation, asking a lot of questions,
laughing along at other people’s jokes, or generally remaining silent.
Presumably, the behaviours you engage in are based on your past
experiences. If you tend to dominate the conversation and laugh at

people’s jokes, then you were likely reinforced for those behaviours in the
past. A behaviourist might note that using the personality dimension of
“extraversion” is an unnecessary addition—it is just a label that does not
help us understand the simple relationship between stimulus and
response (see Figure 12.3  ).

The Social-Cognitive Perspective
In the mid-20th century, behaviourism had to make room for the
emerging social-cognitive perspective; this shift had a major impact on
our understanding of personality. Specifically, the social-cognitive
theorists, like Albert Bandura, placed central importance on the role of
cognition and the person’s inner subjective interpretation of their

circumstances. No longer was the individual simply an object, affected by
environmental circumstances. Now the person became an agent, actively
constructing meaning out of their circumstances, and then making
choices to behave in ways that affect those circumstances. From a social-
cognitive perspective, what became clear was the relationship between

the person and the environment, plus how this relationship is bound up
with the person’s thoughts and interpretations.
According to Bandura’s social-cognitive theory, personality develops out
of the person’s interaction with the environment; this differs from

behaviourism in that the person ends up forming beliefs about their
relationship to the environment, especially beliefs about their own
actions and the likely consequences that will follow from their choices.
For example, Bandura was keenly interested in the concept of self-efficacy,
the belief that a person’s attempts to accomplish a specific task will be
successful. People with a higher degree of self-efficacy are far more likely
to take action, especially difficult actions where the rewards are not
immediately obvious, whereas people with little self-efficacy for a task
will be unlikely to try, and will give up more easily. Thus, Bandura
emphasized how beliefs, such as self-efficacy beliefs, form out of our
interactions with the environment. These beliefs then become their own
causal force, exerting influence over our behaviours and how we interact
with the environment.
If you put all this together, you can see how Bandura (1978) saw
personality as a kind of integrated web of many different processes. His
central idea was called reciprocal determinism , based on the idea that
personality emerges from the interactions between behaviour, internal
(personal) factors, and external (situational) factors, all of which mutually

influence each other (see Figure 12.3 ). The ultimate goal of a social-
cognitive perspective is to achieve a fully holistic understanding of the
person as a system of interdependent processes.
Figure 12.3 Behavioural and Social-Cognitive Approaches to Personality

(a) Behaviourist Account of Personality. Behaviourists thought that what
psychologists call personality was an expression of relationships between
behaviour, rewards, and punishment. Behaviourists avoided referring to
personality traits and dispositions, instead focusing on how past
experiences predict future behaviours. For example, whether someone
tends to be pessimistic might be based on past experiences of feeling a
lost sense of control. (b) Reciprocal Determinism and the Social-
Cognitive Approach. According to Albert Bandura and colleagues,
personality is a product of dynamic interactions between behaviour and
reinforcement, and, importantly, the beliefs, expectancies, and
dispositions of the individual.
Source: Ciccarelli, S. K., & White, J. N. (2012). Psychology: An Exploration (Subscription) 2nd ed.,
©2012. Reprinted and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education, Inc., New
York, NY.
Researchers like Bandura appreciated the added insight that was
encouraged by taking a social-cognitive approach to understanding

people. Focusing on thoughts and beliefs opened up whole layers of
beliefs, interpretations, expectations, and biases for consideration. For

example, examining a person’s beliefs may reveal that they think they are
worthless, that other people generally won’t like them, that they tend to
mess things up, or have other self-defeating convictions. These beliefs
may be the most important force keeping their “personality” (i.e., their
pattern of interaction with the environment) from changing. The hope,

therefore, is that by learning to change some aspects of the social-
cognitive system, such as self-defeating beliefs, the whole system can

change.
For example, imagine a person who is highly neurotic (from a trait
perspective). Knowing this may make the person want to improve and
become less neurotic and unpleasant to be around. But this doesn’t really
give much guidance as to how to actually DO this. What is one supposed

to change, in order to “be a different person?”
A social-cognitive theorist like Bandura would take a look at the
processes through which the person seemed to express and reinforce
their neuroticism. Perhaps the person holds certain expectations, like

fear-based beliefs that things will generally turn out poorly, or that other
people can’t be trusted to do the right thing. As a result, the person feels a
lot of anxiety and tries to deal with this by controlling things around
them, thus developing a pattern of being controlling, critical, and
unwilling to trust or rely on others. As you start to “unpack” this whole
system of self-reinforcing beliefs and behaviours, you find the specific
factors that could help that person change. For example, perhaps this
specific person could examine the beliefs they hold about trusting other
people and identify how these are connected to other beliefs (e.g., “I will
do a better job if I do it myself”), which in turn are connected to other
beliefs (e.g., “If I mess things up, people will be angry with me”). Through
this kind of “analysis” of related beliefs, the person uncovers specific

leverage points—processes that they can change that will then change
their belief system.
Module 12.1 Summary
12.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with

contemporary approaches to personality.
Review Module 12.1
12.1b Understand . . . the behaviourist and social-cognitive

views of personality.
A strict behavioural account of personality identifies the stimuli that
control a person’s responses. From a behaviourist perspective, there is

little need for trait terminology, such as neuroticism or conscientiousness,
and no reference to cognitive factors such as beliefs or thoughts. The
social-cognitive approach to personality instead emphasizes that
situations, behaviours, and thoughts reciprocally determine each other.
12.1c Apply . . . self-report methods to understand your own

personality.
Personality psychologists usually describe individuals based on their
scores on scales devised to measure either general traits (e.g., the Big
Five), or they develop scales for more specific questions about
personality.
Apply Activity
Is being an “internet troll” related to other measures of personality?
Canadian researcher Dr. Erin Buckels and colleagues (2018) developed an
attitude toward online trolling questionnaire to quantify a person’s
trolling tendencies as a part of the researchers’ larger work relating online

behaviour to personality traits. Below is a modified version of their scale
you can complete if you are interested in seeing your trolling tendencies.
Below are some questions about your attitudes toward online trolling.
Please rate your agreement with each statement using the rating scale
provided above the questions.

1. I consider myself to be a troll.
2. I enjoy watching other people get trolled.

3. Trolling behaviour does not make me angry.
4. Trolls share my perspective on life.

5. Trolling behaviour is not cruel and is necessary.
6. My online personality is typical of a troll.

7. I enjoy trolling other people.
8. I like trolls.
9. Trolling behaviour should not be punished.
10. I share political views with online trolls.
11. We do not need safeguards to prevent online trolling.

12. I identify with trolling culture.
How internet trolling relates to other aspects of personality dimensions
was discussed in the #Psych  feature on Internet Trolls. In case you are
interested, the average score from the sample of 345 adults in Buckels et
al. (2018) was 1.61.

12.1d Analyze . . . the personality roots of violence and
prejudice.
Canadian researchers have identified three sets of factors that predict
violence and prejudice that are not fully captured by the Five Factor
Model. The first is the Honesty–Humility dimension of the HEXACO

model of personality. The second is the Dark Triad of psychopathy,
Machiavellianism, and narcissism. The third is Right-Wing
Authoritarianism. Research has found that these traits predict many
dysfunctional patterns of thoughts, emotions, and behaviours.

Understanding the causal underpinnings of these traits and developing
strategies to help individuals with such personality traits would be a key
advance in promoting a healthier and more peaceful society.
12.1e Analyze . . . the relative roles of personality traits and

psychological and physical states in determining behaviour.
The debate over whether personality traits influence behaviour or
whether situational factors play a bigger role in behaviour is ongoing in

the field of personality psychology. In reality, both sets of factors are
important. Personality traits can be remarkably consistent, yet the
situations we find ourselves in can lead to unexpected behaviour.
Module 12.2 Cultural and Biological
Approaches to Personality
Christopher Futcher/E+/Getty Images

12.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with cultural and
biological approaches to personality.
12.2b Understand . . . how evolutionary theories explain personality.
12.2c Apply . . . your knowledge to arrive at accurate conclusions
about the influences of biological and cultural factors on
personality.
12.2d Analyze . . . claims that males and females have fundamentally
different personalities.
12.2e Analyze . . . the genetic basis of personality.
Apparently, if you’re travelling abroad, it is a good idea to sew a
Canadian flag onto your backpack. The reason is that people in most
parts of the world believe that Canadians are generally nice, polite, and
friendly. So wearing the maple leaf should elicit positive responses from
other people.
Are these beliefs about Canadians true? Obviously, there are all sorts of
different people living in a country. Nevertheless, there does often seem

to be a kind of “national character,” doesn’t there? Just try this—imagine
the prototypical Swedish person. Now notice what came to your mind.
The manic Swedish chef? Icy blond supermodels drinking vodka in a
snowbank and looking at you with cool disdain? Now imagine a British
person. Japanese? Australian? Iraqi? Jamaican? Did you find that
specific types of people popped into your head for each example?
Whether we endorse specific stereotypes or not, we certainly have
absorbed basic sets of beliefs about people from various cultures, and
they tend to come to our minds. But are these ideas accurate? Is there
such a thing as “national character” that applies to entire populations?
These questions are extremely interesting but unfortunately, we don’t

yet have all the answers. Many personality psychologists study cultural
differences and similarities in personality and are working to

understand how broad cultural forces interact with other factors to give
rise to our personalities. In this module, we will explore the convergence

of cross-cultural, evolutionary, and biological perspectives. By the end,
we will have a better understanding of how these factors interact.

Culture and Personality
Would you say Americans are WEIRD? It’s okay, don’t feel
uncomfortable; this is a bit of a trick question. In this particular case,
“WEIRD” stands for “Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, and
Democratic.” So yes, it would be fair to say that, on average, people from
several cultures are WEIRD—Canadians, Western Europeans, Australians,

New Zealanders, and definitely Americans (Henrich et al., 2010).
So, why does this matter? Consider this: Do you think there are any
major differences between people who are WEIRD and people who are
not? Of course there are. An “average” Torontonian likely would have
very little in common with an “average” rural Mongolian farmer, for

example.
Now consider that almost everything you know about psychology is based
on studying people from WEIRD cultures. One study conducted at the
University of British Columbia showed that 96% of psychology studies are
conducted on a mere 12% of the population—the WEIRD ones (Henrich
et al., 2010). This means our whole “scientific” understanding of the
human animal is based on studying one specific, small, subgroup. Doesn’t

that seem a little . . . weird?
At the very least, this reminds us to be cautious in applying findings from
psychology studies to the human species at large. It also means that we
need to better understand the similarities and differences between people

in a variety of cultures. For example, one starting place would be to
examine whether there are any important personality differences between
the WEIRD and everyone else.

Universals and Differences across Cultures:
The Big Five
The Five Factor Model of personality centres around five personality
dimensions: neuroticism, extraversion, openness to experience,
agreeableness, and conscientiousness. However, because these factors

were discovered by researchers working in WEIRD places—the United
States, Canada, and Europe—it is possible that the Five Factor Model only
accounts for personality in WEIRD populations and may not apply to the
rest of the world.
To find out whether the Big Five traits are truly universal, an enormous
team of psychologists (there were 127 authors on this single article)
measured the Big Five dimensions in more than 17 000 people speaking
28 languages and inhabiting 56 countries on six continents (they did not
visit Antarctica). The Big Five factors were reliably found in all cultures
that were studied. Despite the many differences that may exist between
cultures, the people in those cultures do appear to share the same basic
personality structures (McCrae et al., 2005; Schmitt et al., 2007). This
finding is incredible, and suggests that the basic systems in the human
personality are, in a sense, deeper than culture. Although individual
personalities differ enormously, the basic machinery of the human
personality system seems universal.

Personality Structures in Different Cultures
The study just described is groundbreaking in its global scope, but a key
methodological challenge remains. Because the Five Factor Model was
originally created by performing a factor analysis of the personality
adjectives in the English language, the kinds of questions that are asked
on Big Five questionnaires are designed to measure the Big Five factors,
and no others. Thus, when the scale is given to people from other
cultures, the scale itself brings the biases of Western culture and the
English language right along with it. What if other languages used
different types of adjectives to describe personality? What if other cultures
had different personality traits than the ones that emerge in the West? Re-
analyzing personality from different linguistic starting points might reveal
new personality factors that lie outside of the Big Five.
Researchers have begun to address this limitation, analyzing personality
structure using personality descriptors in other languages; this work has

already revealed unique personality factors not captured in the Big Five
(Heine & Buchtel, 2009). For example, Cheung and colleagues (1996)
examined indigenous Chinese personality traits, looking for patterns
among the personality descriptors used in Chinese, rather than English.
They found 26 new personality traits in total, and when they performed a
factor analysis on all the traits including these 26 new ones, they found a
different structure from the Big Five.

Instead of five traits, these researchers found four: dependability, social
potency, individualism, and interpersonal relatedness. The first three
traits were very similar to three of the Big Five traits (neuroticism,
extraversion, and agreeableness, respectively), but the fourth,
interpersonal relatedness, was unique. Interpersonal relatedness is a
combination of characteristics concerning social harmony, tradition, and
an emphasis on a person’s social relationships. This finding may reflect a
distinct personality dimension in the Chinese psyche, emphasizing the
more socially interdependent nature of the self in this culture.
Other researchers have added to our multicultural understanding of
personality, analyzing the personality traits found in Filipino, Spanish,
and Greek languages, and seeking a more integrated cross-cultural theory
of personality (Benet-Martinez & John, 1998; Church, 2001; Saucier et al.,
2005). Each analysis has revealed new factors that seem to be
independent of the Big Five.
Cross-cultural work on personality is still in its infancy, and clearly, many
questions remain. At this point, most psychologists would agree that the
Five Factor Model captures important and perhaps universal dimensions
of personality, but also might miss important cultural-specific qualities

that can only be understood by analyzing personality from that culture’s
own perspective (Church, 2010).

Comparing Personality Traits between
Nations
Despite the difficulties noted above, one important advantage of
personality scales that have been translated into different languages is
that psychologists can test for personality differences across cultures.

Many such differences have been found. For example, consider the
countries in Table 12.2  with the highest and lowest averages on each of
the Big Five traits (Schmitt et al., 2007). (Interestingly, Canada falls
roughly in the middle in each case.)
Table 12.2 Cultural Differences in the Big Five Personality Traits

Source: Based on data from Schmitt, D. P., Allik, J., McCrae, R. R., Benet-Martinez, V., et al.
(2007). The geographic distribution of Big Five personality traits: Patterns and profiles of human
self-descriptions across 56 nations. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 38, 173–212.
What do these differences really mean? Do they reflect actual personality

differences between the people in those countries? Or could other things
account for the findings? Many of the personality differences do seem

puzzling. For example, why are Argentinians so neurotic, compared to
people from the Democratic Republic of the Congo? Why are the
Japanese so much less conscientious than Ethiopians? In fact, many of the
findings in these large-scale cross-cultural studies defy cultural

stereotypes (Terracciano et al., 2005), and it is a huge challenge for
researchers to understand whether or not these differences are real.
One striking cultural difference that researchers have struggled to
understand is also illustrated in Table 12.2 . Isn’t it interesting that a

single country, Japan, ranked lowest of all countries on three out of the
five traits (openness, agreeableness, and conscientiousness)? Given the

general desirability of these traits, that is a fairly critical evaluation of the
Japanese personality! (The fact that they are among the most neurotic
countries makes it seem even worse.) In fact, people from the entire
South Asian part of the world rated their own personalities relatively
negatively. Are these differences real? Is such a vast swath of humanity
really so different from the rest of the world? It turns out that there may
be a different explanation for at least some of the cultural differences
found in personality studies. It is possible that people from different

cultures have different response styles —characteristic ways of responding
to questions; these response styles can be strongly influenced by cultural
norms. For example, in one culture it may be more socially acceptable to

say highly positive things about yourself, whereas in another culture the
same behaviour may be considered rude or boastful. Indeed, researchers

at the University of British Columbia have shown that there are such
norms in South Asian cultures, discouraging people from emphasizing

their strengths and successes, and instead encouraging people to be
modest, humble, even self-critical (Heine, 2003; Markus & Kitayama,

1991; Mezulis et al., 2004).
An important critique of cross-cultural research is that it may lead to an

emphasis on how cultures differ from each other, and obscure the fact
that there is so much individual diversity within a culture that the average
differences between cultures may not be that important after all.
Therefore, it is important not to over-emphasize small average differences

between groups and unduly reinforce group-based stereotypes.
Consistent with this point, the authors of the huge study discussed earlier
finally concluded that the differences found in average trait ratings in

different cultures are not sufficiently strong to justify beliefs in national
character. “No convincing evidence has demonstrated that beliefs about

national character” have any basis in fact, “despite their wide adoption
and resistance to change” (Schmitt et al., 2007). Thus, the very
researchers who are looking for cross-cultural differences in personality

ended up concluding that these differences are so small that it is
misleading to think that people in different cultures are “different types of
people.”
Comparing Personality Traits within
Nations
Another way to examine large-scale variation and similarity of personality
traits is to compare groups of people living within a single nation.
Rentfrow and Jokela (2016) refer to this approach as geographical

psychology. Although citizens share some environmental influences, such
as a political system and institutions that govern and influence their daily
lives and experiences, there is regional variability in people’s attitudes
and beliefs. Psychologists might also explain these differences in terms of
personality traits. A cattle rancher and a software engineer might have

difficulty maintaining a prolonged conversation. But why? What causes
people to cluster in different geographic locations? One obvious reason is
that people are born into a location and may not have the means to make
any changes, even if they wanted to. In addition, people tend to cluster in
geographic regions because social influences help establish what is

“normal” or expected of people, and relocating would therefore go against
social, moral, or political beliefs. Ecological features of the local
environment also influence where people live. For example, University of
British Columbia psychologist Mark Schaller reported that people who
live in areas where disease risk is high show elevated levels of
conscientiousness and low openness (Schaller & Murray, 2008).
Furthermore, for people who have the resources to relocate, their
destinations tend to be ones that reinforce existing personality
characteristics (e.g., someone raised in an urban setting will likely

relocated to another urban setting).
How Genes Affect Personality
Cultural influences on personality would clearly fall on the “nurture” side

of the nature–nurture continuum. In this section of the module, we will
examine personality from a different perspective: genetics. We all know
that we can inherit physical traits from our parents. But can you be born
with your mother’s sense of humour or your father’s agreeableness? And,

is it possible to separate the contribution of your genes from that of your
upbringing?
Twin Studies
Researchers attempting to tease apart the contributions made by our
genes and our environments faced a key challenge, which was that
families share not only genes, but also many environmental factors. For
example, if you were to observe a behaviour pattern that runs in families,
such as alcoholism or anxiety, you might be tempted to conclude that

because of the strong family inclination toward this pattern, there must be
genetic roots. But family members also often live in the same home, share
many experiences together, and are exposed to many of the same stresses
and other circumstances. How then do you know if the pattern you
observe is due to the shared genes or the shared environments?
The use of twins as research subjects was a brilliant way of overcoming
this challenge (see Module 3.1 ). Comparing twins who were identical
(monozygotic) to twins who were fraternal (dizygotic) allowed
researchers to estimate the influence of genetic factors on personality

(Figure 12.4 ). Research on the Big Five personality traits of twins has
shown that identical twins show a stronger correlation for each
personality trait than do fraternal twins. The correlations for identical
twin pairs are approximately .50 for all five factors, significantly higher
than the correlations for fraternal twin pairs (who average approximately
.20). This implies that the increased similarity in the personalities of
identical twins is due to their shared genes.
Figure 12.4 Genes and Personality

Identical twin pairs show higher genetic correlations than do fraternal
twins for each of the Big Five personality traits. Numerical estimates of
genetic correlations differ depending on the populations sampled, but
studies typically show a genetic basis for each of the five factors (Bae et
al., 2013).
But, you might ask, how do researchers know that it’s the increased
genetic similarity of identical twins that is responsible for their similar

personalities? Maybe identical twins also tend to share more similar
environments than fraternal twins, and this is the reason for their
personality similarity. Identical twins are often treated in very similar
ways, especially during their younger and formative years. If this is true,
then the strong correlations between identical twin pairs might be
environmentally based.
An impressive line of research directly examines this question. The
Minnesota Study of Twins Reared Apart located over 100 sets of twins
and triplets who were raised in separate households, and compared them
to those raised in the same household. Amazingly, identical twins raised

in different households are about as similar to each other as identical twins
raised in the same household! In fact, fraternal twins who are raised in
the same home are actually more different from each other than identical
twins who are raised in completely different families (Bouchard et al.,
1990; Tellegen et al., 1998).
Other studies of adopted children support these findings. On average, the

personalities of adoptive parents have no influence on the personality
characteristics of their adopted children. Although it may be hard to

believe, siblings who are adopted (i.e., not genetically related) and raised
in the same household are no more similar in personality than two people
picked randomly off the street (Plomin & Caspi, 1999). The genetic
influences on personality are strong indeed (see Module 3.1  for further
discussion of the genetic contributions to behaviour).
It is important to note that this does not mean that parents are incapable
of influencing their children’s personality development. Obviously,
parents who abuse their children, or on the positive side, parents who put
extraordinary efforts into cultivating positive personality traits in their
children, are likely to have an impact on their children’s personalities.

Knowing that a trait is statistically associated with genetic factors tells you
virtually nothing about the extent to which a specific person could be

affected by a specific set of environmental conditions. Parents can, of
course, have positive or negative influences on their children’s
development, and it is important not to deemphasize this when
examining biological and genetic studies.
Watch Twins and Personality
One further challenge of this research is to move beyond estimating the

overall heritability of traits, and begin to uncover which specific genes are
linked to personality outcomes. New advances in gene sequencing

techniques and molecular genetics methods are allowing scientists to do
just that.
Gerald Levey and Mark Newman are identical twins who were reared
apart. When they eventually met, they had many similarities—for
example, both chose the same profession, loved John Wayne movies and
The Three Stooges, and had a fondness for professional wrestling.
AP Images
From Molecules to Personality
It’s pretty mind-blowing to know that who you are was

determined to a fair degree before you were even born, by
whatever genes you happened to inherit from your parents.
Researchers are just beginning to piece together which specific
genes influence which traits.
What do we know about specific genes

and personality?
Although scientists have not identified a specific gene or genes
involved in the expression of specific personality factors, such as
neuroticism or agreeableness, they have discovered genes that

code for specific brain chemicals that, in turn, are related to
personality. For example, one of the genes that codes for
serotonin activity has been found on human chromosome 17.
Specifically, this gene codes for proteins that transport serotonin

molecules within the tiny spaces (synapses) between nerve cells.
Many of our genes are polymorphic (poly = “multiple”; morph =
“form”), meaning that there are different versions of the same
gene that lead to different physical or behavioural characteristics.
Two possible variations of the “serotonin transporter gene” have
been identified: a short copy and a long copy.

How do scientists study genes and
personality?
To study genes and personality, one method is to compare
responses on self-report questionnaires of people who have
inherited different copies of a specific gene. People who inherit
short copies of the serotonin transporter gene from one or both
parents seem predisposed to anxiety, shyness, and experiencing
negative emotional reactions in interpersonal situations (Battaglia
et al., 2005; Lesch et al., 1996). However, other researchers have
suggested that these differences may depend on which of the

many different varieties of self-report questionnaires are used
(Schinka et al., 2004).
Another method for studying genes and personality is to conduct
experiments and compare the responses of people with different
copies of a gene. In one study, participants provided a hair

sample so researchers could extract DNA to determine which
combination of serotonin transporter genes they had inherited.
The participants completed a task that monitored their
attentional focus to pictures of positive (e.g., a smiling infant),
negative (a black widow spider), or neutral (a kitchen table)

stimuli. Previous research has shown that people who have
problems with anxiety focus their attention on threatening
stimuli more than non-anxious people (Bar-Haim et al., 2007).

Researchers found that participants who had inherited two long
copies of the gene were biased toward looking at positive images

more frequently and for longer periods of time. On the other
hand, people who inherited one or two short versions of the gene
spent more time looking at negative images (Figure 12.5 ; Fox et
al., 2009). It seems that inheriting short copies of this gene

increases anxiety levels in general, and seems to steer people
toward giving excessive attention to negative and threatening
information.
Figure 12.5 Genes, Serotonin, and Personality
People who inherit two copies of the long version of the

serotonin transporter gene fixate on positive images and avoid
looking at negative images. People who inherit the short version
of this gene are not biased toward attending to positive imagery.

It is important to keep in mind that, in most cases, there is no
single gene causing a single outcome in a person. Most
phenomena are understood to be caused by multiple genes

interacting with the environment, a process known as epigenetics
(see Module 3.1 ). For example, physiological and psychological

responses to stress in the environment can affect how certain
genes, like the serotonin transporter gene, respond in future
stressful situations. Currently, the general consensus is that a vast
number of genes, each of which has only a very small effect,

account for individual differences in personality (Terracciano et
al., 2010). Finally, it is also important to note that these are
correlational studies, and inferring causality from such data is

highly problematic.

Knowledge about how genes and personality are related can help
psychologists identify risk factors for developing mental
disorders. As we will see in other parts of this text, genetic
studies of personality help us better understand the biological
basis of psychological disorders such as anxiety and depression.

This work raises some interesting possibilities, such as the
potential to screen individuals to assess their risk of developing a
disorder. In turn, at-risk individuals might be better helped with
early detection and treatment. Also, knowing about the genetic

underpinnings of personality is highly informative to theorists
seeking to understand how our personality traits, and the
variability of traits across cultures, evolved in the first place.
The Role of Evolution in Personality
Evolutionary psychologists emphasize that our personality structures are

built right into our species because they conferred selective advantages to
humans possessing certain traits. But the human species is related to
other species as well, and so one would expect that we may share at least
some aspects of our personalities with other species.

Animal Behaviour: The Evolutionary Roots
of Personality
One compelling argument for the usefulness of the evolutionary
perspective on personality is the presence of personality traits in
numerous nonhuman species (Weiss, 2018). For example, scientists have

studied one particular species of bird (Parus major) that lives in Europe
and Asia. These birds display two different patterns of behaviour when
they encounter new environments, corresponding to a “fast-exploring” or
“slow-exploring” personality type. The fast-exploring types are aggressive
and bold in their exploration of new environments, and tend to rely more
on routine ways of responding to the environment rather than being
responsive to external cues. The slow-exploring types are passive, shy
when confronted with new environments, and more responsive to the
external environment, changing their behaviour more readily to suit
changes in the environment. These two personality types are known to

have a strong genetic basis. Which of the two personality types is
adaptive depends on what kind of year the birds are having. If there are
limited resources, aggressive, fast-exploring females, and timid, slow-
exploring males have greater reproductive success. In years where
resources are plentiful, it is the opposite—slow-exploring females and
fast-exploring males have greater success. There are complex reasons
why males and females have personality factors that are oppositely
adaptive to the environment, but the important point is that the basic
personality dimension of aggressiveness vs. passivity is represented in

these birds and has been clearly tied to the birds’ adaptive advantage in
different environments (Dingemanse et al., 2004).
The suggestion that animals have personalities may not strike you as all
that surprising. Many people who have had close and extended
experience with animals, from farmers to pet owners, would say that
animals have personalities. For example, dog lovers don’t feel that their
pet is a totally incomprehensible beast; instead, they attribute qualities,
emotions, and personality quirks that are very “human” to the beloved
animal. This may merely illustrate our tendency to anthropomorphize the

living world, seeing other species through our own egocentric lens, but it
may also reflect our shared genetic heritage with other species.
Researchers who wish to study animal personalities face a daunting task,
particularly considering that nonhuman animals are usually not very
adept at filling out personality scales. To overcome this problem, one
approach for measuring the Big Five factors in animals was for individuals
who are familiar with the animals to rate their behaviours according to
the five factors. Typically, observers strongly agree on their ratings of

extraversion and neuroticism in animals (Gosling, 2001). In fact, several
of the Big Five personality traits have been found in a rich diversity of
species—such as rhinos, primates, hedgehogs, and even ants (Gosling,
2001)! In one study of chimpanzees, our closest primate relatives, a list of

adjectives was taken from the Big Five test and people who were familiar
with the chimpanzee subjects rated how well the adjectives applied to
each chimp on a scale of 1 to 7. Of the Big Five traits, extraversion,
conscientiousness, and agreeableness were reliably found in the chimps

(Weiss et al., 2007).
Poeticpenguin/Shutterstock
Rena Schild/Shutterstock
Michael Nichols/National Geographic/Getty Images
Psychologists are finding that measures of human personality are

applicable to diverse species such as hyenas, octopuses, and
chimpanzees, among many others.
The presence of basic personality dimensions may be extremely

widespread in the living world; some researchers even argue you do not
need a backbone to have a personality. Researchers at the University of
Lethbridge, Alberta, have shown that octopuses show stable individual

differences in measures of activity, reactivity, and avoidance (Mather &
Anderson, 1993).
Why There Are So Many Different
Personalities: The Evolutionary Explanation
David Zuroff of McGill University argues that evolutionary perspectives
can make a major contribution to our understanding of personality,
helping us to understand why we acquired the specific traits that we did

(Zuroff et al., 2010). This question is left largely unaddressed by most
personality theories, which focus on content (e.g., What personality traits
are there?) rather than on process (e.g., Why do we have these traits in
the first place? What functions do they serve?).
Evolutionary perspectives can help us to understand why humans have
evolved the particular personality traits that we have (Buss, 2009). To the
extent that the Big Five traits are built right into our biology, these traits
must have been selected for by being adaptive in past evolutionary
epochs, helping to promote our survival and reproductive success.

Furthermore, variation in how personality is expressed might reflect
different responses to fluctuating physical and social environments. If a
population of people rigidly behaved in the exact same way, their chances
of survival would diminish if the environment changed. Therefore,
individual variation in personality allows populations to respond to
environmental change.
For example, individuals high in extraversion would be more likely to rise
in social hierarchies, playing leadership and social networking roles in a

community; on the other hand, extraverts tend to be risk takers and
sensation seekers, which means that introverts can readily co-exist
alongside introverts and exploit the downsides to being extraverted.
People high in conscientiousness would be reliable and dependable, and
others would learn to count on them to get things done, clearly desirable
qualities in a mate. However, the person low in conscientiousness may be
an attractive partner to mate with for other reasons, such as their
spontaneity and willingness to not always take life too seriously.
People low in neuroticism would be the emotional stalwarts of the
community, the people who didn’t crack under pressure but kept a level
head and could be counted on in crises. However, being high in
neuroticism could pay off at times; for example, highly neurotic people
could have benefitted in terms of survival by being more attuned to
danger. People high in agreeableness would be the friends who are there
for you when you need them, and they would generally help to promote
harmony and solidarity as groups work together on larger projects;
whereas those low in agreeableness might, because of their lower
tendency to conform, stumble upon new and successful solutions to novel
and potentially harsh problems encountered by ancestral humans. People

high in openness would be imaginative and creative, helping to build
bridges between members of different subgroups in the community, and

challenging ideas so that the community doesn’t rigidify into dogma and
closed-mindedness. On the other hand, those low in openness may be

useful for preserving traditions and helping to identify a coherent sense of
identity within the community.
As you can see, being either high or low in each Big Five trait could be
desirable, depending on the situation. Thus, the complex blends of
personality types across society evolved because different traits were
desirable in different circumstances. Just as there are different niches to

which animal species adapt in an ecosystem, there are different social
niches to which people can adapt in society. The extravert and the
introvert, the neurotic and the secure, the conscientious and the careless
gravitate toward the respective niches they best fill.
Given that specific traits have certain strengths and weaknesses, it seems
likely that the different traits evolved because a mixture of traits with
complementary strengths and weaknesses would be advantageous at the
group level, if not necessarily at the individual level. In other words, to

understand why we evolved the traits that we did, we have to consider
traits not operating in isolation but, instead, operating at a more
communal level.
Myths in Mind
Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus
Much is often made about apparent differences in how men

and women think and behave. This comparison can sometimes
get stretched pretty far, such as the implication inherent in the
title of the 1992 self-help book Men Are from Mars, Women Are
from Venus (Gray, 1992). The notion that men and women may
as well be from different planets is strongly reinforced by the

popular media.
To what extent does science back up this hypothesis when it

comes to personality? On the one hand, there is strong
evidence that men and women differ on their Big Five

personality ratings. Women generally report higher levels of
extraversion, conscientiousness, agreeableness, and

neuroticism than men. This finding has been noted in
comparisons made across dozens of cultures (Schmitt et al.,

2008). On the other hand, these gender differences are quite
small, and are vastly overwhelmed by the variability within each

gender. In other words, there are a lot of men who seem like
they’re from Venus, and a lot of women who seem like they’re
from Mars. So, even though there may be a gender difference in
personality, it is so small as to hardly allow the characterization

that men and women are fundamentally different from each
other (Shibley-Hyde, 2014).
In an interesting twist, however, this research also found that

the gender differences are related to economic factors.
Specifically, the countries showing the largest gender

differences in personality also have greater access to
resources such as health care, education, and wealth. Men and
women in countries with fewer social and economic resources
tend to be more similar in their self-reported personality
scores. This phenomenon may occur because a lack of

resources tends to constrain the behaviours and social roles of
individuals, thus making people more similar to each other at
the expense of their personal individuation. On the other hand,
abundant prosperity opens up more opportunities for personal

expression and allows individual differences to flourish
(Schmitt et al., 2008).
The conclusion seems to be that men and women do have

different personalities, on average. Nevertheless, the
differences are so small that Mars and Venus must be pretty
similar places, so to speak. A good title might sell a lot of

books, but does little to inform the general public about what
scientific studies truly reveal about human behaviour.
In the final section of this module, we examine biological explanations for

our personality traits. Can differences in the volume of brain structures or
the activity of brain regions explain, at least in part, why personalities
vary?
The Brain and Personality
Modern biological approaches for investigating the brain and behaviour

build on many ancient traditions of medicine that connected the mind to
the body and sought to understand the person in terms of bodily
processes. For much of the past 2000 years, Western medicine was guided
by the theory of humourism , which explained both physical illnesses and

disorders of personality as resulting from imbalances in key fluids in the body—
the four “humours” (see Module 1.2 ). In the late 1700s and into the
1800s, early psychologists promoted phrenology —the theory that
personality characteristics could be assessed by carefully measuring the shape of
the skull. However, these early biological approaches have long since
fallen out of fashion, and the field has made major strides in
understanding actual biological systems that are involved in personality
processes.
Extraversion and Arousal
A big step forward occurred in the mid-20th century, when researchers
began convincingly linking personality characteristics with specific brain
systems. One of the most influential pioneers in this field, Hans Eysenck
(1967), proposed an arousal theory of extraversion , arguing that
extraversion is determined by people’s threshold for arousal; according to this

theory, people high in extraversion (i.e., extraverts) have a higher
threshold for arousal than people low in extraversion (i.e., introverts). As
a result, extraverts generally seek greater amounts of stimulation,
whereas introverts seek to limit the amount of stimulation they
experience so as to not become overwhelmed with excessive arousal.

One brain system, the ascending reticular activating system (ARAS) ,
plays a central role in controlling this arousal response. Research on Eysenck’s
ideas has demonstrated that extraverts do have less reactive ARASs
compared to introverts. Put simply, for a given “kick,” introverts have a
stronger response, which is why introverts tend to avoid excessive

stimulation, whereas extraverts tend to seek it out. Work done since
Eysenck’s studies of arousal and extraversion has painted a more complex
portrait. In addition to the reticular activating system, there are other
brain systems that contribute to arousal, such as the circuitry involving
neurons that release dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine
(Trofimova & Robbins, 2016). With the benefit of hindsight this isn’t that
surprising. Something as complex as personality isn’t going to be
reducible to any single brain region or chemical.

Another influential model of the brain–personality relationship was
proposed by Jeffrey Gray, whose approach/inhibition model of
motivation (Gray, 1991) describes two major brain systems for processing
rewards and punishments: the behavioural activation system and the
behavioural inhibition system.
The behavioural activation system (BAS)  is a “GO” system, arousing the
person to action in the pursuit of desired goals. This system is responsive to
rewards and fairly unresponsive to possible negative consequences;
greater BAS activation therefore is associated with greater positive

emotional responses and approach motivation. The other system, the
behavioural inhibition system (BIS) , is more of a “danger” system,
motivating the person to action in order to avoid punishments or other negative
outcomes. The BIS is therefore associated with greater negative emotional
responses and avoidance motivation. The underlying theory of BAS and
BIS is supported by individual differences in brain activity that support
approach and avoidance responses. For example, people with strong
tendencies toward behavioural activation have strong connections
between brain circuits that support movement toward goals (the basal
ganglia) and a region of the prefrontal cortex that computes the value of a
rewards (Gourley et al., 2016).

Phrenologists believed that different personality traits were housed in
different regions of the brain.
Classic Image/Alamy Stock Photo
As you might expect, several of the Big Five factors are correlated with
activation of the BIS/BAS systems. The most consistent finding is that
extraversion is especially related to BAS activation, whereas neuroticism

is related to BIS activation (e.g., Gomez et al., 2000). This evidence is
beginning to build at different levels of analysis, but it takes a long time

for such complex studies to accumulate. However, just considering the
link between extraversion and BAS activation, we can see data focused on
at least three levels of analysis: behavioural, neurochemical, and
emotional. For example, extraverts tend to act impulsively when

presented with the possibility of rewards, even ignoring the risk of
punishment (Patterson & Newman, 1993). Extraverts show a stronger
dopamine response to rewarding stimuli (Depue & Collins, 1999). And

extraverts tend to experience more positive emotions in a range of
situations (Ashby et al., 1999; Lucas et al., 2000). Thus, a trait measure of
extraversion reflects the functioning of many different systems, providing

a great example of the integration of science across many areas of study.
As you have learned in previous chapters, there are all kinds of high-level
technological advances, such as brain imaging, that can be used to
answer previously unanswerable questions. Indeed, it seems that no
stone goes unturned when it comes to implementing brain scanning
technology to reveal the brain basis for a multitude of psychological

characteristics. Such is the case with personality. Why not give
participants brain scans and the Big Five inventory and see what
happens? What areas of the cerebral cortex or limbic system (functions in
emotional processing) are different (e.g., larger) in people who are
conscientious or neurotic? This approach has been tried (DeYoung et al.,

2010), but what we end up with is closer to phrenology than rigorous
neuroscience. We may never know how to precisely “map out” the Big
Five onto the brain. Expecting brains containing billions of nerve cells
and connections to conform to a few general traits that emerge from self-
reports about personality might be unrealistic.
Current knowledge about brain circuitry and function can, however, help
us understand how specific aspects of personality and brain function
interact. For example, extraverts generally show less activation in the

amygdala than introverts (Canli et al., 2002). The medial orbitofrontal
cortex is involved in processing reward, which is consistent with
extraverts’ greater reward sensitivity (i.e., strong BAS). The amygdala, on
the other hand, is involved in processing novelty, danger, and fear, which
extraverts tend to pay less attention to (i.e., weak BIS), hence their
underactive amygdalae (see Figure 12.5 ).
With regard to neuroticism, the dorsomedial prefrontal cortex is involved
in regulating emotions (Ochsner & Gross, 2005), the hippocampus in
controlling obsessive negative thinking (Gray & McNaughton, 2000), and

the mid-cingulate gyrus in detecting errors and perceiving pain—whether
physical or emotional pain (Carter et al., 1998; Eisenberger & Lieberman,
2004). These are the kinds of processes that define highly neurotic
people. They have difficulty controlling their emotions, often fall prey to
obsessive negative thinking, and are highly sensitive when they make
mistakes or feel pain.
Individuals high in openness to experience have been shown to have
greater activation in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, which is involved

in creativity and intelligence, as well as other brain systems involved in
the integration of the self and the environment (Adelstein et al., 2011).
These systems reflect the tendencies for people high in openness to be
creative, integrative thinkers.
Although the ability to link brain regions to personality processes at such

a refined level has only become possible recently, neuroscientists are
beginning to find brain regions that differ reliably between people with
different personality traits. This does not mean that these brain
differences cause the personality differences, but it does suggest that these
brain regions are involved in serving neurological functions that are
related to personality processes at some level. The causal connections
might be indirect and highly varied, challenging us with incredible

complexity, both of personality itself but also complexity of the
neurological architecture of the brain. This complexity reminds us that in
most cases, there will be no specific brain area involved uniquely in a
personality trait; for example, there is no “centre of extraversion” in the
brain. Any trait plays itself out through many different thoughts, feelings,
and behaviours, each of which involves many different brain systems.
What seems like a stable pattern that we identify as a personality trait
actually reflects activity in a number of different brain systems.
So we may never be able to point at a single region (or even a few
regions) and declare it to be the centre of any single personality trait.

That said, we have come a long way from the days when personality was
described in terms of the four humours of blood, phlegm, and black and
yellow bile.
Module 12.2 Summary
12.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with cultural and

biological approaches to personality.
Review Module 12.2
12.2b Understand . . . how evolutionary theories explain

personality.
Evolutionary psychologists theorize that personality traits evolved
because they solved environmental and social problems encountered by

our distant ancestors. Although this hypothesis is difficult to test directly,
different sources of evidence lend support to it. The widespread
occurrence of these personality traits among different species indicates
that they are adaptive.
12.2c Apply . . . your knowledge to arrive at accurate

conclusions about the influences of biological and cultural factors
on personality.
Apply Activity
Test your knowledge about some of the major findings about personality
that were discussed in this module. Identify whether the following
statements are true or false.
1. Most research on personality surveys humans across all nations,
ethnicities, and cultural backgrounds.
2. Personality profiles of people from different regions of the same
country probably exist because of genetic differences among
populations.
3. Based on evolutionary theory, personalities vary among individuals
because fluctuating social and physical environments would favour

different personality types.
4. Personality traits such as extraversion and openness cannot be traced

to a single brain region responsible for their expression.
5. Enduring personality traits, such as those measured in the Big Five,

are uniquely human.
12.2d Analyze . . . claims that males and females have

fundamentally different personalities.
Claims of major sex differences in personality are sometimes made to
support popular-book sales. In reality, the general consensus in

psychological science is that males and females are more alike than
different when it comes to personality. Both, of course, share common
personality dimensions. Although females tend to be, on average, more

conscientious, agreeable, extraverted, and neurotic than males; these
differences are very small, and there is no evidence to support claims that
men and women are fundamentally different in personality.
12.2e Analyze . . . the genetic basis of personality.
Heritability studies show that personality traits are substantially predicted

by genetic variation. Studies of twins and adopted children also back this
up, showing that identical twins are far more similar in personality than
fraternal twins, and that the home in which people grow up has much
less influence over their personalities than the genes they inherited from
their biological parents. However, despite this evidence for genetic
influences on personality, we cannot conclude that personality is “hard-

wired” and therefore unchangeable. Personality emerges through the
interaction of genes and the environment; thus, a given genetic make-up

can express itself differently in different environments.
Module 12.3 Psychodynamic and
Humanistic Approaches to
Personality
blas/Fotolia
12.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to the psychodynamic and
humanistic approaches to personality.
12.3b Understand . . . how people use defence mechanisms to cope

with conflicting thoughts and feelings.
12.3c Understand . . . the developmental stages Freud used to explain
the origins of personality.
12.3d Apply . . . both psychodynamic and humanistic perspectives to
explain personality.
12.3e Analyze . . . whether projective tests are valid measures of
personality.
12.3f Analyze . . . the strengths and weaknesses of psychodynamic
perspectives.
Abraham Maslow, who was introduced in Module 11.3 , was
fascinated by people who actually live up to their potential. Many of us

want to follow today’s pop-culture slogans to “live for the moment,” “be
all that you can be,” and “do one thing every day that scares you”—but
somehow, most of us never quite get around to it. Perhaps you’ve
experienced that nagging feeling that life is passing you by and the epic
adventure you thought your life was going to be is somehow more
mundane than you’d hoped? Apparently, this doesn’t happen to

everybody; some people really do seem to live inspiring and fulfilling
lives, and these were the personalities that Maslow wanted to

understand.
In striking contrast to much of the cynicism of the 20th century,

Maslow believed that although we have the capacity for great evil, at
the very foundation of our being we are inherently good. He argued that
the more we open ourselves to our inherent goodness, the more we will
see reality clearly, rather than through our biases; the more we will be
empowered and able to confront life courageously, rather than
shrinking from challenges because of our insecurities; and the more we

can focus on helping others rather than tending to our own needs and
wants. The end result of pursuing personal growth is to become fully,

vibrantly alive.
Labouring under the effects of deficiency motivation is like looking at

the world through a clouded lens, and removing those effects is like
replacing the clouded lens with a clear one. Self-actualizing persons’

contact with reality is simply more direct. And along with this
unfiltered, unmediated directness of their contact with reality comes

also a vastly heightened ability to appreciate again and again, freshly
and naïvely, the basic goods of life, with awe, pleasure, wonder, and
even ecstasy, however stale those experiences may have become for
others. (Maslow, 1968)
Is it possible to live such a life? Maslow thought so, and personality

researchers are still following his call and trying to decipher the magic
ingredients that allow some people to truly thrive in life.
Maslow hoped that his work would help people learn how to cultivate
these qualities within themselves. His optimistic vision of human nature
was a major break from the personality psychology of the day, which
largely grew out of a Freudian psychodynamic perspective. As we discuss
in the text that follows, to the Freudians, personality was a battleground
between opposing forces in the psyche, as people struggled to defend

themselves against the negativity that loomed in their unconscious. In
contrast, Maslow and the humanists explored a positive, growth-oriented

side to personality that we need to fully appreciate in order to have a
more complete picture of the human personality.

Although neither Freudian psychoanalysis nor Maslow’s humanistic
theories have retained their once-prominent positions in psychology, they
remain highly influential approaches in society at large, and have inspired

and guided generations of people to live their lives more fully.
The Psychodynamic Perspective
As one of the best known and most influential psychologists of all time,
Sigmund Freud often does not get the respect you might think he would
deserve. Many of his theories have not stood the test of time and are now
largely ignored. Several are difficult or impossible to integrate with more
modern approaches, such as social-cognitive and neuroscience

perspectives. Indeed, some of his theories are even regarded as ridiculous
by many people (e.g., the Oedipus complex, discussed later in this
module). Freud was definitely a colourful character. He was a passionate
user and advocate of cocaine before its addictive and destructive
properties were known. He was rumoured to have been tyrannical
toward his followers, allowing people to express little dissent from his
views. Freud has been critiqued as having an obsession with sex, as
having created unfalsifiable and therefore unscientific theories, and as
using only a limited cross-section of humanity (mostly women seeking
counselling in Victorian-era Europe) upon which to base rather grand and
sweeping theories about human nature.
However, despite the criticisms, Freud was a pioneer in the study of
personality and the treatment of psychological disorders. He laid much of

the foundation for our basic understanding of consciousness, which is still
with us today, as are many of his key insights. When a drug addict admits
to being “in denial” of his addiction, an abuse survivor talks about how
she “repressed” her memories and feelings for many years, or someone
accuses you of “projecting” your anger onto other people, they are
expressing Freud’s ideas.
Interestingly, Freud was not trained in psychology, but was instead a
neurologist. The launch of his scientific career was anything but
glamorous; he spent many hours peering through microscopes at tissue
samples, searching for the elusive testicles of the male eel, which had not
yet been discovered. Freud’s extraordinary attention to detail, along with
the unwitting cooperation of many hundreds of eels, led him to
eventually make the discovery. Which might make you ask, what kind of
person exhaustively searches for eel testicles? No doubt, Freudian
theorists would have an interesting answer to that question.
After leaving his scientific career to be trained as a physician, Freud
began to accept clients who sought his help for psychological difficulties.
Initially, Freud believed that their issues could be resolved through
investigating their physiology and isolating the biological factors that
contributed to their problems. However, after examining some of his
patients, he realized that their emotional struggles often could not be

understood at the physiological level; instead, he had to delve into the
mysterious depths of the mind. This led him to begin trying to understand
the personalities of his patients and the psychological dynamics that led
to the problems they were experiencing.
Over time, his observations and ideas coalesced into his psychodynamic
theory, which isn’t really a “theory” at all, but rather an evolving family of
different theories and ideas that share many key features, which we
discuss in this module (also, see Westen, 1998).
Assumptions of Psychodynamic Theories
A universal assumption of psychodynamic theories is that personality and
behaviour are shaped by powerful forces in consciousness, a great deal of
which is hidden from our awareness in the mysterious unconscious. By
emphasizing the unconscious, Freud threw into doubt many of our
common feelings and beliefs. For example, we like to feel that we are in
control of ourselves, and our behaviour reflects conscious choices that we
make. We believe that we know why we do the things we do—that our
behaviour makes sense to us. We also like to believe that when we do
something embarrassing, immoral, or just plain stupid, that we were
somehow “out of control” or that it was a mistake.
From a psychodynamic perspective, however, there are no mistakes, and
we have very little control over ourselves and remarkably little insight
into the reasons for our own behaviours. Everything we think, feel, and
do results from psychological dynamics that are so deeply buried in our

unconscious that we have no direct access to them; our mind is a “black
box,” even to ourselves.
To understand the implications of Freud’s psychodynamic theory, we will
explore its key concepts and how they apply to personality psychology.
Unconscious Processes and
Psychodynamics
Freud grounded his theories on a model of consciousness that
distinguished between different levels of mental life, most importantly
between the conscious mind and the unconscious. The conscious mind 
is your current awareness, containing everything you are aware of right now.
The unconscious mind  is a much more vast and powerful but inaccessible
part of your consciousness, operating without your conscious endorsement or
will to influence and guide your behaviours. The unconscious mind houses
your full lifetime of memories and experiences, including those that you
can no longer bring into conscious awareness, such as emotional patterns
that were created in early childhood or even infancy. It also contains your
preferences and desires, which can influence you in ways that may be
obvious or in ways so subtle that you are not even aware of them. The
relationship between these two levels of consciousness is often described

using an iceberg metaphor of consciousness (see Figure 12.6  ). With
icebergs, the part you can see above the surface is a small fraction of the
entire iceberg, while most of its bulk lurks beneath the surface. Similarly,
the conscious mind is a small fraction of the entire psyche, most of which
lurks beneath the surface of our awareness in the depths of the
unconscious.
The mysterious, vast, inaccessible unconscious is viewed as the primary
driver of our behaviours, controlling us in countless ways. Even

seemingly trivial behaviours, such as slips of the tongue, were argued to
reflect the workings of the unconscious. In fact, these slips, famously
called “Freudian slips,” are very useful to the observant person, because
they offer a glimpse into the unconscious. When people make a Freudian
slip, their conscious mind intends to say something appropriate to the
circumstances, but their unconscious mind leads them to say what they
were “really thinking.” As the classic psychologist joke goes, “The
definition of a Freudian slip: when you mean to say one thing but you
end up saying a-mother.”
Freud believed fervently in the value of these “psychopathologies of

everyday life” and developed several techniques that psychoanalysts
could employ to use such small clues to gain access into the netherworld
of the unconscious. (We revisit this later in this module.) Freud and other
psychoanalysts argued that much of what manifests as personality reflects
patterns that emerge as people attempt to resolve conflicts between their
conscious and unconscious minds.

The Structure of Personality
Have you ever done something you knew at the time was wrong? Like
eating that brownie when you knew you shouldn’t? Losing your temper?
Hooking up with that attractive person even though they already have a
boyfriend or girlfriend (or you do)? To explain this type of all-too-
common conflict, Freud hypothesized that the human psyche consists of

three basic structures, which are often in conflict with each other: the id,
the ego, and the superego (Figure 12.6 ).
Figure 12.6 The Freudian Structure of Personality

A popular depiction of how Freud viewed personality features an iceberg,
with the unconscious mind residing below the surface and conscious
awareness at only the tip of the iceberg. The id is completely submerged,
whereas the ego and the superego operate at both unconscious and
conscious levels.
The id  represents a collection of basic biological drives, including those
directed toward sex and aggression. Freud believed the id was fuelled by an
energy called libido. Although this term is more commonly used in

reference to sexual energy, the libido also controls other biological urges
such as hunger. The id operates according to the pleasure principle,
motivating people to seek out experiences that bring pleasure, with little
regard for the appropriateness or consequences of their realization.
Because the id represents our basic animal desires, it is present right from
birth and is the predominant force controlling our actions in the earliest
stages of our lives. The id gets us into trouble though, and increasingly so
as we get older, and society frowns on some of the unrestrained urges of
our lusty animal selves. Because society imposes constraints on our
behaviour, the id must be restrained from its animal nature; that is where
the ego and superego come into play.
The superego  is comprised of our values and moral standards. Our

superego tells us what we ought to do, whereas the id tells us what our
animal body wants to do. Freud believed that the superego forms over
time as we become socialized into our family and larger community and
we are taught the values and norms of our society. The superego
represents a process of internalization, through which we adopt the

values and standards of others and make them our own, and
consequently, we feel good or bad about ourselves based on whether we

think we are being “good” or “bad.” When we behave immorally, the
superego chastises us, similarly to how our parents may have done,
thereby encouraging us to “do the right thing.”
In between the devilish, indulgent id and the angelic, rule-bound
superego sits the beleaguered ego , the decision maker, frequently under
tension, trying to reconcile the opposing urges of the id and superego. The ego
has to be plugged into reality; if it listened to the id all the time, we would
be social deviants, instantly gratifying ourselves at every turn, but if it

listened to the superego all the time, we would cut ourselves off from
much of our raw passion and zest for life. The ego seeks to balance the
two forces, operating according to what Freud called the reality principle.
The id, ego, and superego are in constant tension, and it is this tension
that gives rise to personality in two key ways.
First, different people’s personalities may reflect differences in the relative

strengths of their id, ego, and superego. You can easily imagine a person
guided by an extremely strong superego versus a person guided by an

extremely strong id. Indeed, these would likely be two completely
different types of people. In this deep, structural sense, individuals’

personalities are patterned by their own particular blend of ego, id, and
superego. Each person’s unique combination of biology (id), upbringing

and sociocultural circumstances (superego), and their uniquely personal
awareness and will (ego) ends up developing into their personality.
The second key dynamic that generates much of personality is how a
person reacts to anxiety. Anxiety plays a huge role in psychodynamic

thought, because anxiety is the experiential (what we feel) result of the
tension among the id, ego, and superego. When these systems are out of
balance, we experience the deprivation of one system as a kind of basic
anxiety. This drives negative thoughts and feelings, which ideally would
serve as messages to us—signals that “something is wrong; this system is
not in harmony.”
Anxiety can be about something huge and overwhelming (e.g., having
abuse occur in a person’s family) or about something mundane and

seemingly trivial (e.g., wearing the wrong thing to a party). But it’s
important to note that in either case, the anxiety itself has a kind of life of
its own. For example, we can experience truly crushing and debilitating
anxiety about something that others would think was silly (e.g., wearing
the wrong thing to a party), whereas people can, through psychological
defences (as we discuss shortly), defend themselves against even

profound anxiety (such as being unwilling to face the reality of abuse
occurring in the family).
According to Freud, the ego engages in anxiety defence throughout the

day. From worrying about failing, to how we look, to whether someone
likes us, to how something we did will be perceived by other people, we
feel anxiety. We could wonder whether we made a good decision, feel
guilty, wonder if we are losing our looks or our charm as we age, or deal
with basically an infinite variety of potential things to worry about and

feel badly about. Dealing with this constant drama is the job of the ego.
And of course, there is its classic job, which is to figure out what to do
when part of us wants to do the bad thing (whatever that may be), and
part of us is scared or feels ashamed or otherwise knows we “shouldn’t”

do the bad thing.
It’s easy to feel a bit sorry for the ego. Sure, it gets to be in control a lot of
the time, but it also never really gets a break, always having to be on the
job to keep us from becoming overwhelmed by anxiety. From Freud’s

perspective, consciousness is a constant battleground for the ego,
negotiating between the id and superego, while also protecting itself from
countless sources of anxiety.
Defence Mechanisms
Oftentimes, the ego is unable to resolve the anxieties that plague it.
Instead, it focuses merely on protecting itself from excessive anxiety,
seeking some way of minimizing or avoiding the negativity it is
experiencing. Imagine a young child caught between Mom and Dad
screaming at each other. Having no way to resolve their conflict, they

plug their ears and hide in the closet. The child can’t resolve the
negativity, so they try to escape it. This reaction is what the ego does
when it employs its defence mechanisms , unconscious strategies the ego
uses to reduce or avoid anxiety (Freud, 1936; see Table 12.3 ). In fact, the
literal acts of plugging the ears and running into the closet are examples
of denial, which is a very common defence mechanism.
Table 12.3 Examples of Some Major Defence Mechanisms

Defence mechanisms play key roles in many important social
phenomena, such as prejudice and discrimination. For example, imagine

a CEO of a company choosing not to hire a member of an ethnic
minority; the CEO may protect themselves from admitting the possibility
that the choice was racially motivated by engaging in rationalization,
reasoning that the applicant didn’t seem as impressive, professional, or

“like she will fit into our team.” You can imagine the thought “It had
nothing to do with race, of course! I just want to hire the best person for
the job, and I felt that she wasn’t the right fit. After all, I have a lot of
experience in this company, and I trust my sense of who is going to work
out and who isn’t.” You can see how easily a person’s own reasoning
process can be hijacked by the ego in order to protect itself, and the line
between what is true and what merely appears to be true can so easily be
blurred.
Unfortunately, although defence mechanisms may keep us from feeling

anxiety in the moment, they are ultimately dysfunctional for a variety of
reasons. One is simply that undesirable tendencies are not confronted
and problems are not dealt with; instead, immense energy is devoted to
maintaining the defence mechanisms and trying to feel okay. For
example, alcoholics (and often their families) sometimes go to great

lengths to avoid having to admit that they have a problem, which only
worsens the impact of alcohol on their lives. Freud’s (and others’) work
on defence mechanisms remains influential to this day, particularly in the
mental health field, where defence mechanisms often play important

roles in therapy for psychological disorders.
Personality Development:
The Psychosexual Stages
Freud’s theory of personality also involved a sophisticated understanding
of development. Freud believed that the personality developed as the
person learned to channel the energy of the libido into appropriate forms
of self-expression. Thus, to Freud, development of the infant and child is
ruled by the id, involving the young child struggling to contain and
channel sexual urges and feelings. The child is a bundle of animal
impulses, and development is therefore based on the ego and superego
developing properly through appropriate socialization experiences as the

child grows up. Freud highlighted specific developmental challenges that
children faced at different points of their lives, developing a stage theory
of psychosexual development that tracked the progression children went
through as they matured through the various stages (see Table 12.4 ).
Table 12.4 Freud’s Stages of Psychosexual Development

Interestingly, most of Freud’s stages happened in the first five years of life,
reflecting the central importance of the developmental milestones that
occur in the first five years. At each stage, the libido manifests in
particular areas of the body, depending on what areas of the body are
most salient and important at that particular time of life. For example, as
babies, sucking for food and comfort is a central activity, whereas for
toddlers, learning to control the bowels and become toilet-trained is a
pretty major focus; these physical challenges were reflected by Freud as

specific stages (in this case, the oral and anal stages). When these bodily
areas are relevant to the person, they become a focus for the id, which
attempts to derive as much pleasure as possible from gaining gratification
in those areas. Thus, each of these important regions becomes a
battleground pitting the child’s id against the restrictions of the external

world.
If the child was able to release their libidinal energy appropriately
through the part of the body that was relevant at that time, this would
help them have a healthy relationship with themselves and they would be
free to focus on the next stages of development. However, if their need
satisfaction was thwarted or interfered with, they would become fixated

at that stage. Fixation  involves becoming preoccupied with obtaining the
pleasure associated with a particular stage as a result of not being able to

adequately regulate themselves and satisfy their needs at that stage. Fixation
can occur either because of conflict and excessive parental interference
(e.g., criticizing the child for making mistakes during toilet training), or
because the child is allowed to overindulge in that form of pleasure-
seeking behaviour.
The Oral Stage (0–18 months)

For babies, the mouth is where it’s at; all the action that really matters
happens through their mouths: feeding, comfort, teething, and even the
early experiences of aggression. As a result, the mouth is a major focus

for both pleasure and frustration, and the ego has to learn to satisfy the
id’s desire for biting and sucking with the superego’s judgment about
what is appropriate in a situation. If this goes well, the infant develops a
basic sense of security and empowerment; this is the initial foundation for
the ego.
However, if the infant either can’t satisfy its need for security, comfort, or
food, or conversely, if it is over-indulged so that it develops an emotional
attachment to using its mouth, then it will develop an oral fixation. Instead
of having a healthy ability to self-assert, the infant may develop to be
dependent, have an addictive personality, and seek to “consume” the

world for its own emotional needs. Fixating at the oral stage means that
the person never fully develops their ego, and is therefore more
vulnerable to anxiety and less capable at adjusting to social reality.
The Anal Stage (18 months–3 years)
Toddlers begin to become aware of themselves as separate individuals at
the same time that they are gaining control over the bowels. Toilet
training thus becomes the focal activity at this stage. Freud believed that if
bathroom skills were learned successfully and positively with support and
encouragement from caregivers, the result was a sense of competence

and confidence that would lead the toddler to develop into a well-
adjusted and productive adult. But if parents were too strict and critical of
toddlers, making them feel bad about “having accidents” and putting too
much pressure on them, they could become fixated at this stage,
struggling with issues like shame and control. Eventually, they could
become anal retentive adults, a rather rigid personality excessively
concerned with cleanliness and order with a high need for control and
little emotional openness. Or, if parents were too lenient and provided
too little support for toilet training, this would produce an anal expulsive
adult who exhibits opposite qualities of carelessness, disorganization, and
general irresponsibility.
The Phallic Stage (3–6 years)

This early childhood stage is a crucially important stage in Freud’s view,
although this stage is also where people often find Freud’s theories hard
to swallow and many reject his ideas altogether. We believe it is worth

considering what insights there may be in Freud’s thinking, even if some
of the specific details seem questionable. Also, keep in mind that the full
development of Freud’s theories is far more brilliant and detailed than
what we are able to capture in a brief overview.
From ages three to six years, bodily attention shifts to the genitals as
children become aware of the differences between boys and girls and
start to heavily identify with one gender. Boys go through the now-
infamous Oedipus complex. Freud theorized that in boys, the attachment

to the mother that was achieved during infancy (through oral means)
now gets expressed in the phallus. He claimed that a boy in this stage
become sexually attracted to his mother. The boy also realizes that he is
in competition with his father for his mother’s affections, which creates
resentment toward the father and, in the wonderful logic of young
children, makes the boy want to kill his father. During this stage, boys
struggle with highly conflicted feelings toward their fathers, feeling both
attached to and hostile toward them. This is a very difficult time

emotionally, as boys are torn between such strong feelings and desires.
Freud represents this anguish with the Greek tragedy of Oedipus Rex (by
Sophocles). In this story, the main character, Oedipus, kills his father
without knowing he has done so, and ends up marrying his mother.
When he eventually learns what he has done, he is so overcome with
horror that he stabs his own eyes, blinding himself. (The ancient Greeks
were fairly intense.)
Freud used highly sexual language to describe the phallic stage, although
it is important to remember that the literal descriptions can also be
thought of as metaphoric insights into personality. According to Freud,
little boys are quite distressed to learn that their mothers do not have
penises. They reason that something must have happened to cut them off.
And if that happened to their mothers, it might happen to them!
Furthermore, it stands to reason that it was the powerful father figure
who did the nasty deed, thus causing a great deal of castration anxiety, the
fear of castration by their father. (Metaphorically, castration anxiety is the

fear of emasculation.) Boys resolve this fear, and thus the Oedipus
complex, by learning to identify with the father, developing a close bond
with him, while repressing sexual feelings for the mother.
For girls, the logic was considerably more complicated and Freud revised
his theories somewhat over time. Freud believed that girls also want to
sexually possess their mothers and feel competition with their fathers.
When girls discover that they themselves lack a penis, they experience
penis envy, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. As a result,
girls redirect their sexual interest to their fathers, and subsequently men
in general, because that’s the way to get a penis. Having a child someday,
particularly a boy, is also likely to be highly desired, because having a boy

is (according to Freud) another way of obtaining a penis.
As mentioned earlier, Freud’s theories are considered to be very deep and

often profound, although it requires a lot of “unpacking” to get to those
insights. For example, with regards to penis envy, you can take the penis
as more of a symbol of power and masculinity, rather than as a literal
penis. You can therefore take the envy of the penis to represent the
female child’s desire for empowerment, which she would gain through
association with masculine traits and pursuits. When you think about it
this way, you can see some potential merit to Freud’s ideas. But for the
most part, this part of Freud’s theory has had little influence on the rest of
the field. Also, we assume that the critiques of Freud’s ideas about
women are painfully obvious at this point. Indeed, these critiques of the
phallic stage, as well as its general inaccuracy as a description of the

psychological experiences of most people, have been devastating to this
part of Freud’s theories.
The importance of the phallic stage is that, at its resolution, the child has
formed a healthy relationship with the parents, resulting in the
internalization of parental values, which completes the formation of the
superego. Successfully transitioning out of this stage leaves the child well
prepared as a moral being. On the other hand, becoming fixated at this

stage has striking negative consequences. People become plagued with
jealousy and preoccupied with sex, seduction, competitiveness, and
power.
Freud believed that girls never entirely resolve their Oedipus complexes
(the term Electra complex was coined by Carl Jung but rejected by Freud),
leaving women with somewhat less well-developed superegos and thus a

less reliable morality. He theorized that to the extent that Oedipal issues
remain, women will seek to control and dominate men through their
sexuality or submissiveness because, of course, men have the penises that
women envy.
The Latency Stage (6–13 years)

After the lurid sexuality and emotional drama of the phallic stage, the
latency stage is downright boring. Between ages five and 13, the ego and
superego have achieved a degree of general calm. The sexual nature of
the libido is deemphasized, and it is instead directed into more
productive activities than trying to mate with and murder one’s parents,
such as education, hobbies, and hanging out with friends. This is a period
of rich personal development for children, during which they gain many
of their intellectual, social, artistic, and physical skills. Interestingly,

people don’t get fixated at this stage, because personality is largely
formed by the end of the phallic stage, and if people are not fixated at an
earlier stage, they become relatively free to pursue their interests.
The Genital Stage

The onset of puberty marks the beginning of this stage, which continues
throughout adulthood. This is the time during which the person emerges
into a mature adult personality, with a fully developed capacity for

productive work and satisfying and loving relationships. However, those
who remain fixated at previous stages will suffer from underdeveloped

personalities, which cause any number of problems in their subsequent
adulthoods.
Modern psychodynamic psychologists generally agree that Freud’s stages
of psychosexual development are not an accurate view of personality
development. However, even this is not entirely clear; clinical

psychologists often report observing patterns that are consistent with
Freud’s observations of each stage of psychosexual development (Westen,

1998). For example, one study reported that young children are more
likely to show affection to the same-sexed parent and aggression toward
the opposite-sexed parent (Watson & Getz, 1990). This is reminiscent of

the Oedipus complex, although the underlying mechanisms are not
necessarily the same (i.e., notice there is no reference to sexual attraction
or murderous intent).
A huge challenge faced (and never surmounted) by Freudian thinkers was

how to empirically measure many of the concepts and processes
described in Freud’s theories. For example, how exactly does one
measure the contents of the unconscious? How can we measure

something that, by definition, people are unaware of?
Exploring the Unconscious with Projective
Tests
As discussed earlier in this module, Freud devised a number of
techniques for peering into the inner workings of the unconscious, such
as analyzing the “psychopathologies of everyday life” for evidence of

defence mechanisms and hidden motivations. Freud also refined
methods, such as dream analysis and free association, which were
believed to reveal unconscious material by side-stepping the conscious
mind. For example, dream analysis was based on the belief that the
material in the unconscious, although not accessible to the conscious

mind, nevertheless was depicted in our dreams. However, because much
of the unconscious operates without language, dreams would not be
literal, but symbolic representations of the contents of the unconscious.
Thus, the dream analyst had to learn to properly interpret the symbolic
meaning of dreams in order to understand what could be learned from

the unconscious.
Since Freud’s time, psychodynamic psychologists have attempted to
develop more standardized techniques for probing the unconscious. One
popular approach is to use projective tests , personality tests in which
ambiguous images are presented to an individual to elicit responses that reflect
unconscious desires or conflicts. They are called “projective” because the
image can be interpreted in different ways, and the particular
interpretation a person chooses is thought to be a projection of her

unconscious.
One of the most familiar projective tests is the Rorschach inkblot test ,
in which people are asked to describe what they see in an inkblot, and
psychologists interpret this description using a standardized scoring and
interpretation method (Exner, 1991; see Figure 12.7 ). Another projective
test is the Thematic Apperception Test (TAT) , which asks respondents to
tell stories about ambiguous pictures involving various interpersonal situations
(Figure 12.8 ). For example, a picture might show a man and woman
looking at each other with blank expressions. Subjects are asked to tell a
story about the picture. Who are these people? What emotions are they
feeling? Why are they looking at each other that way? The details in the
story that a person makes up are thought to be a projection of their
personality functioning, and thus, a way of illuminating their
unconscious.
Figure 12.7 The Rorschach Inkblot Test
Some psychologists attempt to measure personality characteristics by

analyzing the verbal responses clients use to describe what they see in an
inkblot such as this (which clearly shows an image of your parents).
Equinox Imagery/Alamy Stock Photo

Figure 12.8 The Thematic Apperception Test
In this projective test, the individual is asked to tell a story about what is
happening in the image. The responses to this task are believed by some
to give important insights into an individual’s personality.
Ken Karp/Pearson Education
Unfortunately for proponents of projective tests, they have not fared well
in empirical research, receiving criticism for low reliability and validity.
Low reliability indicates that the test will not give the same measurement
on subsequent assessments of the same person. Low validity indicates
that the test does not actually measure what it purports to measure. For
example, although projective tests are supposed to measure personality
functioning, in some cases, such as the figure-drawing test shown in

Figure 12.9 , they actually measure a combination of artistic ability and
intelligence (see Lilienfeld et al., 2000). Time and again, research has
indicated serious limitations regarding the reliability and validity of

projective tests (Garb et al., 2005; Lilienfeld et al., 2000).
Figure 12.9 Figure Drawing as a Projective Test

Figure drawing is another projective technique used by many
psychologists. The content of the drawings is analyzed and interpreted by
the therapist. It turns out that these drawings are somewhat related to
artistic ability and intelligence, but not personality (Lilienfeld et al., 2000).
S. O. Lilienfeld, J.M Wood, & Howard N. (2000). Garb Psychological Science in the Public Interest,
1(2), 27-66.
Despite criticisms from some researchers, many therapists claim that they
have experienced significant breakthroughs by using projective tests. A

survey in the mid-1990s estimated that 43% of clinical psychologists and
psychiatrists made frequent use of projective tests (Watkins et al., 1995).
More recently, a survey of school psychologists showed that the TAT and
Rorschach were used by 30% and 14% of these professionals,

respectively, although their popularity appears to be declining (Hojnoski
et al., 2006).
Perceiving Others as a Projective Test
There are clearly problems with the reliability and validity of

some projective tests, but the basic idea of projection remains
compelling to many psychologists. Could there be some way to
measure projection with greater accuracy? One promising
direction is to look at how people make judgments about what

other people are like.
What do we know about the way people

perceive others?
People have a seemingly natural inclination to make assumptions
about what others are like, even if only very limited information
is available. We may judge people we hardly know as friendly,
aggressive, selfish, or trustworthy, for example. But with virtually
no information to guide us, how do we make these judgments?
One possibility is that we make guesses as to what other people

are like by using our own self-concepts as a guide. With no other
information to go on, we tend to assume that most people are
kind-of like us. The trait of Machiavellianism (see Module 12.1 )
provides a great example. People who exhibit this trait are
generally willing and able to manipulate and deceive others to
get what they want. Interestingly, they are more likely than the
general population to see others as being cynical and selfish

(Christie & Geis, 1970). Thus, psychologists suggest that the
degree to which an individual sees people as selfish and cynical
is, to an extent, a projection of his own Machiavellianism (Wood
et al., 2010).
How can scientists study how projection

relates to personality?
Although projection was initially a psychodynamic idea,
contemporary researchers have begun to apply it to other
approaches, such as the trait approach. In one study, participants
rated both themselves and others in terms of personality traits
such as the Big Five, narcissism (i.e., excessive self-importance),
and symptoms of depression. Researchers found that the way
that participants viewed themselves was related to how they
viewed others. For example, people who viewed themselves
positively (as agreeable, intelligent, and satisfied with life) were

likely to view others the same way (Wood et al., 2010). This
provided evidence that how people perceive others appears to be
a projection of how they perceive themselves.

The results of this study indicate that self-ratings and ratings of
others are correlated. However, the correlations themselves are

not very large, meaning that psychologists cannot make precise
predictions about a rater’s personality based on that individual’s

ratings of others, but rather can make only general statements.
Furthermore, this study does not provide evidence that projection

is actually occurring (i.e., that people are actually using their own
self-concepts to guide their impressions of others). It could be the

case that people are simply positive or negative in general, such
as being optimistic or pessimistic. Positive, optimistic people

would tend to see themselves and others positively, and negative,
pessimistic people would do the opposite. Thus, the correlation
between ratings of self and other simply reflects a general
disposition, not a specific process of projection.

Standard projective tests such as the Rorschach inkblot test and
the Thematic Apperception Test are fraught with problems and

controversy. It would be unheard of for modern medical doctors
to diagnose disorders using procedures that are as unreliable and
of as questionable validity as these tests. Thus it is important to

search for new and better methods that might reveal meaningful
information about the individuals taking them. Psychology need

not necessarily abandon projective tests altogether, as the
benefits of adding rigour and scrutiny to them has shown that

they can be of value (e.g., Schultheiss & Brunstein, 2001).
Alternatives to the Psychodynamic
Approach
Freud attracted many followers, but some of his contemporaries took
psychodynamic psychology in different directions. They recognized that
sex and aggression are not the only motives driving personality
development. Indeed, other motivational forces, such as the need for
belonging, the need for achievement, and the need for integrity or
wholeness, are important aspects of personality.
Analytical Psychology
Carl Jung (1875–1961) made a dramatic break from Freud over
disagreements about a number of issues, founding the analytical
psychology movement. Analytical psychology  focuses on the role of
unconscious archetypes in personality development. The archetypes were
believed to be housed in a region of the unconscious unique to Jung’s

theories. In contrast to the Freudian unconscious, Jung believed that there
were two main types of the unconscious: a personal unconscious ,
which was basically the same as the Freudian unconscious, a vast
repository of experiences and patterns absorbed during the person’s life; and a
collective unconscious, which is not held within the individual person.

The collective unconscious  is a separate, non-personal realm of the
unconscious that holds the collective memories and mythologies of humankind,
stretching deep into our ancestral past. Jung thought of the personal and
collective unconscious as entirely different “levels” of consciousness,
although they are so different from one another as to be basically

completely different things. The personal unconscious is still housed
within the person, but the collective unconscious is more like a larger
field of forces, which shape the individual personality in certain
characteristic ways.
Within analytical psychology, archetypes played a central role;
archetypes  are images and symbols that reflect common patterns of
experience across all cultures. There are many different archetypes and
several particularly important ones, including the Mother, the Child, the
Trickster, the Wise Old Man, the Hero, and the Shadow, among others.
The Shadow archetype represents unwanted aspects of the self that the
person is unwilling to acknowledge. This archetype has been particularly
influential among psychologists who emphasize personal growth,
individual empowerment, and healing from trauma (e.g., Ford, 2002).
These archetypes were thought to represent major narrative patterns in
human experience, part of the universal tapestry of human life. Thus,
when archetypal symbols appeared (e.g., in a person’s dreams), it was
believed that they could be interpreted and would give important insights
into the person’s personal growth and well-being. Archetypes are a very
popular aspect of Jungian psychology, but they have not had much of an
impact on the rest of the field, again due to their unscientific nature.
The Power of Social Factors
Alfred Adler (1870–1937) initially differentiated himself from Freud by
arguing for the importance of social dynamics and conscious thoughts (as
opposed to sexual and aggressive drives in the unconscious) as
determinants of behaviour. He rejected the centrality of the pleasure
principle, instead emphasizing the inferiority complex , the struggle

many people have with feelings of inferiority, which stem from experiences of
helplessness and powerlessness during childhood. Adler described how
people strive to compensate for their feelings of inferiority by trying to
appear competent and, in many cases, overcompensate for inferior
feelings by trying to be or appear superior to others. Adler’s theories of

the importance of the need for power have had a profound influence on
the field of psychology and continue to inspire contemporary research
(e.g., Watts, 2000).
Karen Horney (1885–1952) also disagreed with Freud’s heavy emphasis

on sex, and especially infantile sexuality. Instead, Horney
(disappointingly pronounced “HORN-eye”) focused on the importance of
social and cultural factors, arguing that to understand personality one
should focus on the functioning of a person’s present self, rather than
overwhelmingly focusing on the unconscious, which was largely formed
in early childhood. Horney highlighted the role of interpersonal conflict
between children and their parents as important to personality
development. She also strongly advocated against Freud’s
“phallocentrism” (i.e., emphasis on the penis). To counter his theory of

the Oedipus complex, Horney argued instead that men suffer from
“womb envy,” because men can never experience the miracle of birth and
of carrying another human life as part of oneself, or the experiences of
breastfeeding and other biological acts of motherhood. She said that men
attempted to compensate for their perceived deficiencies by focusing on
work and by devaluing and subjugating women. While Freud believed
that women suffered from penis envy, Horney argued that any “envy”
Freud observed in the female psyche was envy of the patriarchal power
enjoyed by men, not of men’s sexual equipment (Paris, 1994).
As you can see, psychodynamic theorists have separated themselves in a
number of important ways. Contemporary psychodynamic psychologists
work mostly in the field of clinical and counselling psychology. And,
despite some differences, modern psychodynamic psychologists do share
many of the core attributes of psychoanalytic thought: an emphasis on
the unconscious, internal conflicts between opposing forces within
personality, and the influence of early experiences on adult personality
(Westen, 1998).
Humanistic Perspectives
Reacting against the pessimism and disempowerment inherent in
Freudian approaches, the humanistic psychologists wanted to explore the
potential for humans to become truly free and deeply fulfilled. Thinking
outside the boxes of behaviourism and psychodynamic theories, the
humanistic psychologists emphasized the individual’s free will to make

choices, highlighted positive motivations for personal growth and
development, and explored the upper ranges of human experience, such
as feelings of transcendence, love, and fulfillment. Proponents of the
humanistic approach believed it would become the “third force” in
psychology, after psychoanalysis and behaviourism.
Among the many influential humanistic psychologists, Carl Rogers was
perhaps uniquely responsible for helping to launch the movement and for
cementing certain ideas in the field that remain to this day. Rather than
the Freudian depiction of people plagued by complexes and defences,

Rogers championed a person-centred perspective , founded on the
assumption that people are basically good, and given the right environment
their personality will develop fully and normally. Rogers believed that people
possess immense inner resources for growth and resilience, and a desire
for self-actualization , which is the drive to grow and fulfill your potential.
According to Rogers, fully functioning, self-actualized people deeply
accept themselves and are highly self-aware. Having moved beyond the
need to erect defences to ward off negative feelings, they become aware
of their inherent goodness. Rogers believed that the more self-actualized
a person becomes, the more their inherently good nature will dominate
his personality. Other leading humanistic psychologists, such as Abraham
Maslow, also sought to identify the characteristics of fully functioning,
self-actualizing people. Research on human strengths and virtues
continues to this day, gaining new life in recent years through the positive
psychology movement, with renewed interest in topics like personal
growth, gratitude, authenticity, and meaning.
Review Applying Psychodynamic and Humanistic Views of Personality

Module 12.3 Summary
12.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to the

psychodynamic and humanistic approaches to personality.
Review Module 12.3
12.3b Understand . . . how people use defence mechanisms to

cope with conflicting thoughts and feelings.
According to the psychodynamic perspective, defence mechanisms
activate whenever we are threatened by feelings of anxiety due to

conflicts between different systems within consciousness. These
mechanisms include denying and repressing urges, displacing them, or
finding more acceptable ways of expressing them.
12.3c Understand . . . the developmental stages Freud used to

explain the origins of personality.
To explain personality development, Freud began with the concept of
libido—the id’s energy source for the drives that originate at different
focal points of the body from infancy to adolescence. Each of the stages of
psychosexual development—oral, anal, phallic, latent, and genital—is
associated with a unique form of conflict as the ego and superego
develop. Failure to resolve the corresponding conflict can result in a
fixation, in which the person is stuck at a certain phase of development,
and this can cause problems later in life.
Review Stages of Psychosexual Development According to Freud

12.3d Apply . . . both psychodynamic and humanistic
perspectives to explain personality.
Apply Activity
To apply the psychodynamic approach to understand someone’s
personality, you would consider the role that unconscious processes play
in determining behaviour, as well as the conflicts that exist between a
person’s impulses and his need to regulate them. Review Freud’s

structure of the mind (illustrated in Figure 12.6 ) and the psychosexual
stages of development. What might each of the following situations mean

from Freud’s perspective?
1. A student cannot concentrate on their homework until every little

item on the desk is in its appropriate place.
2. An individual commits violent acts against others without feeling

any remorse.
To apply the humanistic perspective to understand personality, you
would look at the person’s motivations for personal growth and

fulfillment and consider whether they embody the set of traits described
by Maslow as characterizing self-actualized people. In each of the

following scenarios, which personality characteristic could the person
work on changing in order to move toward becoming self-actualized?
1. Dave is a pragmatic guy, preferring the hard, cold facts of reality
to fantasies about how life could be different. He is not afraid to

express what he really thinks, and is not very concerned about
whether other people accept or reject him. Because he is so

comfortable with himself, he has little anxiety and can behave
spontaneously and freely in most situations. He feels strongly

patriotic toward his country, and thinks that government should
focus on issues like taxes and the economy, rather than trying to
help people who are disadvantaged due to poverty.
2. Zoe is enthusiastic about life and has a strong spiritual practice,

using meditation and prayer to feel closer to the divine. She feels
profound empathy for people in all parts of the world and is
described by her family as a “bleeding heart,” someone who cares

strongly for people who are worse off than her. She regrets some
of the choices she made earlier in life, and although she tries to
learn from them, finds herself often nostalgically thinking about
the past. She has many friends and is very socially active, in part
because she is such a people-pleaser that she is good at
presenting herself in such a way that she makes other people
comfortable.
12.3e Analyze . . . whether projective tests are valid measures of

personality.
In this module you learned about projective tests such as the Rorschach
inkblot test and the Thematic Apperception Test, which some

psychologists believe are useful tools that give them insight into
unconscious processes. However, projective tests do not appear to be
valid ways of assessing characteristics of a person’s personality.
12.3f Analyze . . . the strengths and weaknesses of

psychodynamic perspectives.
Psychodynamic theories can provide some compelling explanations for
human motivation. For example, it is easy to understand how social and

moral conflicts arise when couched in terms of a struggle between the id
and the ego. At the same time, this approach does not have a lot of
scientific support. Its key concepts, such as the id, ego, and superego, are
theoretical constructs that cannot be empirically measured. Also, the

psychosexual stages of development are no longer believed to be accurate
descriptions of stages that children go through while growing up.
Chapter 13
Social Psychology
13.1 The Power of the Situation: Social Influences on Behaviour
Situational Influence on Behaviour: Mimicry, Norms, and Roles
Group Dynamics
To Act or Not to Act: Obedience, the Bystander Effect, and
Altruism
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Bystander Effect
Module 13.1 Summary
13.2 Social Cognition
Person Perception
The Self in the Social World
Stereotypes, Prejudice, and Discrimination
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Explicit versus Implicit
Measures of Prejudice
Module 13.2 Summary
13.3 Attitudes, Behaviour, and Effective Communication
Changing People’s Behaviour
Using the Central Route Effectively

Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Identifiable Victim
Effect
Using the Peripheral Route Effectively
The Attitude–Behaviour Feedback Loop
Module 13.3 Summary

Module 13.1 The Power of the
Situation: Social Influences on
Behaviour
Sundry Photography/Shutterstock.
13.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with social influence.
13.1b Understand . . . why individuals conform to others’ behaviours.
13.1c Understand . . . how individuals and groups can influence
behaviours.
13.1d Apply . . . your knowledge of being a passive bystander or active
altruist to understand your own likeliness to help.
13.1e Analyze . . . whether people who harm others are fundamentally
hurtful, mean people or if their behaviour is the product of social

influences.
In 2006, Tarana Burke started the Me Too movement with the goal of
empowering survivors of sexual violence. Over the next decade, Me Too
was able to improve the lives of many people by de-stigmatizing what it

means to be a survivor and encouraging society to hold the perpetrators
responsible. Throughout Canada and the United States there was now
increasing public awareness of sexual violence, though nothing can
match the power of what happened in 2017 when a number of

allegations of sexual assault, many against internationally known,
high-powered figures from the news media and entertainment industry,
led to charges against the film producer Harvey Weinstein. These

accusations against one of the most influential people in the film
industry unleashed the full power of the Me Too Movement. On

October 15, 2017, actor Alyssa Milano took to social media asking
individuals to acknowledge their experience of sexual violence with a

#MeToo hashtag. Her intention was to give the public a sense of the
magnitude of the problem (Levenson & Guerra, 2017). By the end of the
next day, #MeToo had appeared on Twitter over 500 000 times (The
Economist, 2018). In the following 12 months, #MeToo had been
tweeted over 19 million times (Pew Research Center, 2018). As of 2019,
the movement is still going strong.
From a psychological perspective, a movement such as #MeToo reveals
something fascinating about human behaviour. Millions had been

living with secrets while having daily interactions with others who
shared the same, painful experiences. Social pressure can exert an

amazing power to suppress behaviours—it seemed better to so many
people to swallow their emotions rather than to share them. Yet social
pressure can do the opposite as well. Once a handful of people started to
open up, others became more willing to share; once they shared, it
empowered even more people to come forward. This isn’t a one-time
event either. #MeToo regularly surges back into the twitterverse

anytime there is a major news story about sexual violence (Pew
Research Center, 2018).
To psychologists, understanding social influences on behaviour is very
important because at its worst, it can create enormous amounts of

suffering. But at its best, it has the power to improve lives.
We tend to feel that we are in charge of our own behaviour—that we are

free to determine what we do and what we choose not to do, and that we
act for good reasons, not just to go along with the crowd. Social
psychology challenges these ideas with strong evidence that much of our
behaviour depends more on where we are than on who we are.
Kurt Lewin, one of the first social psychologists, conceptualized
psychology by a simple equation—B = f(P,E)—symbolizing that Behaviour

is a function of the Person and the Environment (1936). This insight
challenged the Freudian theories of the early 20th century, which focused
solely on the person and their unconscious drives. Lewin’s formula also
challenged behaviourism, which focused solely on the environment.

Lewin, therefore, did what is so often the most reasonable thing to do:
take all things in moderation. In doing so, he emphasized the role of the
individual in choosing what situations to go into, how to interpret a

situation, and, ultimately, how to respond. The past 80 years or so of
research in social psychology that has flowed from this insight has pieced
together a deep understanding of the situational forces and individual

characteristics that determine human behaviour.
Situational Influence on Behaviour:
Mimicry, Norms, and Roles
To begin our study of social psychology, we must first acknowledge that
humans are fundamentally social creatures; perhaps the biggest part of
the “E” is the social environment. Even the biggest introverts among us
are remarkably sensitive to what is socially acceptable or unacceptable.
This doesn’t limit itself to the difference between right and wrong—it can
be something as simple as how to walk down the street. Is it appropriate
to make eye contact with strangers and give them a warm greeting? In
some situations, it would be incredibly rude not to. In others, it could
lead to an awkward interaction or even get you beaten up. Of course, we
don’t always get it right and some people are better than others at making
these social judgments, but the vast majority of people in the most
situations somehow seem to know how to behave. In this section, we will
find out why.

Synchrony and Mimicry
Exactly how do social influences become incorporated into our thoughts
and behaviour? Neuroscientists and psychologists have observed that
humans often become synchronized, in a sense. Synchrony occurs when
two individuals engage in social interactions, and their speech, language,
and even physiological activity become more alike (Gordon et al., 2019).
Similarly, humans often engage in mimicry , taking on for ourselves the
behaviours, emotional displays, and facial expressions of others. Perhaps you
have caught yourself inadvertently copying another’s behaviour. But most
of the time it is a completely unconscious activity. You tend to laugh and
smile when others are laughing and smiling. More generally, you display
the same emotional expressions on your face as those you see on the
faces around you, and then pick up their moods as well. And if someone
else is whispering, you will likely whisper, even if it is to ask, “Why are
we whispering?” The examples are literally endless; practically every
moment of social interaction between people involves mimicry.
This kind of subtly attuned mimicry is highly functional (Lakin et al.,
2003; Tschacher et al., 2014), serving as a “social glue” and helping to
coordinate behaviours in social settings. Mimicry helps people feel
reassured and validated by each other, sending the unconsciously
processed message to others that you are kind of like them, and more so,
that you are paying attention to them in that moment. However, it’s a
different story if you try to intentionally mimic people’s behaviour in order
to manipulate them. Consciously trying to “steer” this process could lead

you into trouble, just like focusing too much on a well-practised
movement can cause you to mess it up. Indeed, if someone notices that a
person is mimicking them, they like that person less as a result (Maddux
et al., 2008); so, if you are using this power for your own nefarious
purposes, at the very least, be subtle about it!

Norms and Roles
Social norms  are the (usually unwritten) guidelines for how to behave in
social contexts. Some of the more readily observable norms are those
associated with age, gender, and socio-economic class, and you can see
them influence everything from our manners (e.g., you probably make
different jokes when out with your friends than when you meet your boy-
or girlfriend’s parents for the first time) to the clothes we wear (e.g., you
shouldn’t show up to the typical funeral wearing cargo shorts and a
sleeveless T-shirt).
Norms are mostly implicit and emerge naturally in social interactions,

although there are plenty of examples to the contrary. When you were a
child, adults most likely told you specifically how you were expected to
behave in different situations. As an employee, your supervisor may have
provided you with verbal instructions or a policy manual about what is
expected for manners, dress, and so on. Despite these examples, we

adapt to new norms all the time without even realizing it. In fact, people
often fail to realize this and instead believe that their behaviour is freely
chosen (Nolan et al., 2008).
Our tendency for mimicry helps us figure out normative behaviour, but
what motivates us to go along with norms? One very important motivator
is social approval. Individuals who don’t appear “normal” (meaning some
aspect of their behaviour challenges the norm) are often subject to all
kinds of unpleasantness, ranging from insults to legal trouble.

Ostracism , being ignored or excluded from social contact, is another
powerful form of social pressure (Hartgerink et al., 2015; Pfundmair &
Wetherall, 2018). Imagine this scenario: You arrive in the Psychology
Department to participate in a study. In the waiting area, another student
spots a ball in a basket of toys, picks it up, and gives it a playful toss to
you. A third student in the room holds up his hands, so you toss him the
ball. This isn’t a fun game but it does pass the time. But what happens if
the other two students for no apparent reason and without any
provocation begin to only toss the ball back and forth with each other?
This is an experimental method to produce ostracism developed over a

20-year period by Kip Williams and his graduate students (Williams &
Nida, 2011). Although being left out of the game may sound trivial, the
effects are anything but. The most noticeable observations across dozens
of studies include anger and sadness; these effects have held up across
many variations in the ball-toss procedure. Other typical responses
include temporarily lowered self-esteem, self-confidence, and even a
reduced sense of a meaningful existence.
With all of these negative effects, you can see how ostracism could
encourage someone to go along with the norms. In fact, ostracism can
lead to hyper-normative behaviour. For example, individuals who

experience a high need to belong—a type of personality trait—have a strong
response to ostracism. In one study on morals, for example, high need-to-

belong participants responded to ostracism by (1) increasing how much
they identified with their in-group’s beliefs (such as a political group,

church, social organization, etc.) and (2) increasing how morally
important those beliefs are (Pfundmair & Wetherell, 2018). At its worse,
ostracism can produce aggression in laboratory studies, and this has led
researchers to note that, at the time of their writing, 13 of the 15 most
recent school shooting perpetrators had experienced significant ostracism

(Williams & Nida, 2011).
#Psych
From Cyberball to Ghosts
As you have read, ostracism can be studied in the laboratory

with success; however, the majority of the research in the past
15 years has been online in the form of Cyberall, a video game

version of the ball-tossing experiment. One recent meta-
analysis combined the results of 120 studies that included a

total of over 11 000 participants (Hartegerink et al., 2015). This
provided solid evidence that social exclusion can have a very

big effect on an individual, even when online, even when
interacting with strangers, and even when engaged in a game

that is, at best, a little bit dull. Alternative software programs
have simulated ostracism in chat rooms (Donate et al., 2017)

and social media (Wolf et al., 2015), finding very similar results.
Outside of psychological research, cyberostracism has been
observed in a variety of ways and with similar effects.

Sometimes these effects are minimal, such as when someone
keeps checking a tweet or post yet still has not received

responses (Mai et al., 2015; Tobin et al., 2014). Cyberostracism
can become extreme, however. That is true for ghosting, in

which one person completely excludes another from any form
of electronic contact and without any explanation, usually in

order to end a personal relationship. Although ghosting is too
new to have been the subject of much research, what we know

about ostracism should give us an indication of how ghosting
might feel (Freeman et al., 2018).
While norms are general rules that apply to members of a group, social
roles  are guidelines that apply to specific positions within the group. Because
roles are so specific, we often have labels for them such as professor,
student, coach, parent, and even prison guard. This latter role happens to
be one of the most famous roles in psychology. The Stanford Prison

Experiment of the early 1970s has become a memorable and controversial
narrative of how quickly people might adapt to assigned roles—it has
even been made into a feature film by that name (The Stanford Prison
Experiment [Motion Picture], 2015) and inspired one other. What makes
this study so memorable?
In 1971, researchers at Stanford University recruited a group of young

men and randomly assigned them to play the part of prisoner or guard in
a makeshift jail in the basement of the psychology building. The lead
investigator, Phillip Zimbardo, coached the guards on how to play the
role, even relying on consultation from a former prisoner on how to best
mimic actual prison guard behaviours he experienced while incarcerated.

Unsurprisingly, some guards became quite hostile and abusive, and in
response many of the “prisoners” became helpless and submissive (Haney
et al., 1973). The study was terminated before the planned two-week
period. The reason offered by Zimbardo at the time was that the situation
had gotten out of hand—the role-playing exercise became its own reality
and the prisoners were starting to show extreme duress. (However, this
has been refuted multiple times by one of the prisoners in a 2004
interview; Toppo, 2018). Whether you accept Zimbardo’s worst-case-
scenario explanation, or the more moderate one offered by some

participants, the point is still very important: People placed into situations
change their behaviour. Sometimes the change is intentional, but often it
is not a conscious act. Sometimes the change is minor, but the situation
can also demand enormous changes.
Classic studies have always been an essential part of learning about social
psychology—they are often fascinating and illustrate concepts very well. It
is also important to separate interesting story and narrative from scientific

reality. Recall the concept of demand characteristics covered in Module
2.1 : Providing the guards with specific instructions on how to play their
role weakens Zimbardo’s conclusion that the power of these randomly

assigned roles turned otherwise good people into cruel guards and
desperate victims (see Banuazizi & Movahedi, 1975). Interestingly, in the
early 2000s a similar study, the British Prison Study, controlled for
demand characteristics and found that the guards were actually very
reluctant to engage in abusive behaviour, and the prisoners eventually

coalesced to agree upon strategies with how to deal with being locked up
together, and thereby improved their well-being over the course of the
study (Haslam & Richer, 2012). Thus, the power of the situation can bring
people together to play the role of “survivor.”
Prison studies aside, the importance of norms can be illustrated in many

other ways. For example, alcohol abuse among university students is an
increasing problem in Canada and the United States, and psychologists
have found that perceived norms are likely to be a factor. Students who
perceive norms to be high tend to overestimate rates of drinking on
campus and are much more likely to be binge drinkers and heavy
drinkers themselves (Foster et al., 2015; Wardell & Read, 2013). We
should keep in mind that this is correlational research, so we cannot

establish whether the norms lead to more drinking or vice-versa, but
research suggests that interventions aimed at correcting misperceptions
of the norm can lead to decreased alcohol abuse (LaBrie et al., 2013;
Ridout & Campbell, 2014). We should also keep in mind that alcohol use
is just one example of the power of norms. In fact, our perceptions of
what is normal are likely to influence everything we do. And, as you’ll see
in the next section on group dynamics, perceptions about what is normal
can be formed and exert influence on people almost instantly.
Group Dynamics
Mimicry, roles, and social norms highlight the fact that much of our lives
are spent in groups, whether it’s hanging out with friends, collaborating
on school projects, or navigating a crowded sidewalk. A key question in
social psychology is whether the subtleties of mimicry and norms lead us
to behave differently in groups than we would alone, and how the

behaviour of individuals may differ from the behaviour of a group.
Social Loafing and Social Facilitation
Let’s start with a question about your own experiences in groups—how
do you feel about group assignments? Do you like them because they’re
an opportunity to get to know people, or maybe because your previous
experiences show that groups can accomplish something more impressive
together than you could alone? Or do you hate group projects because
other people waste so much time or because people don’t have very good
ideas or because some people are slackers whose work doesn’t meet your
standards and you end up having to do everything yourself? Research at
various types of higher education settings finds that students’ opinions
are divided, but many of those feelings are quite strong (e.g., Chang &
Brickman, 2018; Gottschall & Garcia-Bayonas, 2008) Regardless of your
feelings, you are almost certainly going to be working in groups in the
future. Whether it’s your job, family and community groups, or the group
project your professor assigns to your class, it’s pretty tough to avoid
working with other people.
Often one of the main purposes of a group is to work on more complex
and sophisticated projects than an individual could by working alone. But
does this really happen? Do groups produce better work, making the
most out of individuals’ ideas and encouraging their best efforts? Or do
they produce poorer outcomes, limiting people’s creativity and enabling
them to slack off? Oddly enough, the answer to both questions is “yes,
sometimes.”
Groups sometimes produce poorer outcomes due to social loafing ,
which occurs when an individual puts less effort into working on a task with
others. There are various phrases for describing this—coasting, slacking,
free-riding. Social loafing can occur in all sorts of tasks, including physical
activities (e.g., swimming, rope-pulling), cognitive activities (e.g.,
problem solving, perceptual tests), and creativity (e.g., song writing), and
across all types of groups, regardless of age, gender, or nationality (Karau
& Williams, 2001; Latané et al., 2006). One reason why people loaf is
because they think others in the group are also not doing their best,
setting up an apparent social norm that “people in this group don’t work
very hard.” There are two likely outcomes of social loafing. Either the
group performs quite poorly (i.e., crashes and burns), or a small number
of people end up saving the group by doing everything themselves. Given
the importance and inevitability of group work, it is important to
understand what factors encourage loafing, so we can avoid them (Hall &
Buzwell, 2013).
Low efficacy beliefs. This occurs if tasks are too difficult or complex,
so people don’t know where to start. Structure tasks so people know

exactly what to do, provide clear deadlines, and give people feedback
so they know how well they are doing and how they can improve.
Believing that an individual’s contributions are not important to
the group. This occurs if people can’t see how their own input
matters to the group. Overcome this by helping people understand
how group members rely on and affect each other, and assigning
tasks to people that they feel are significant or they’ve had some say
in choosing (if possible).

Not caring about the group’s outcome. This occurs when a person is
not personally identified with the group, perhaps feeling socially
rejected from the group or perceiving the group as unsuccessful or

unimportant. Overcome this by making the group’s goals and values
clear and explicit, encouraging friendships to form and group
activities to be fun and socially rewarding.
Feeling like others are not trying very hard. As discussed earlier,
people loaf if they feel others are loafing (Karau & Williams, 2001).
Overcome this by providing feedback about the progress of group

members on their individual tasks; strong groups often have regular
meetings where people’s progress is discussed and, ideally,

celebrated!
In contrast to social loafing, social facilitation  occurs when one’s

performance is affected by the presence of others (Belletier et al., 2019). For
example, in perhaps the first social psychology experiment ever

published, Norman Triplett (1898) found that cyclists ride faster when
racing against each other than when trying to beat the clock. Many other
researchers have found similar effects, even in animals. For example, ants
are able to dig more when other ants are working alongside them (Chen,
1937), and even cockroaches run down a runway more quickly when
other cockroaches are around (Zajonc et al., 1969).
The presence of others doesn’t always improve performance, however.
We’re all familiar with the athlete who “choked” at the big moment. The
presence of others is likely to interfere with our performance when our
skills are poor or the task is difficult. Even the cockroaches mentioned
earlier did more poorly when other cockroaches watched them try to
navigate a more complex maze (Zajonc et al., 1969).
There are many mechanisms that explain the social facilitation effect
(Uziel, 2007; Belletier et al., 2019). One of the most important is that the
presence of others is (emotionally) arousing, and arousal tends to

strengthen our dominant responses. Similarly, the presence of others
occupies our attention, reducing our ability to consciously direct out
behaviour. For both reasons, when the task is simple (e.g., run in a
straight line), our dominant responses are the right ones. But when the
task is very complex (e.g., juggle three axes for the first time), we need to
be able to pay more attention and control our responses more carefully,
and then arousal decreases performance. Based on these tendencies, it is
probably not surprising that, for true masters of a skill, audiences and
competitors generally enhance performance, but novices tend to perform

best in practice sessions when nobody’s watching (Bell & Yee, 1989;
MacCracken & Stadulis, 1985).
Conformity
At the most basic level, conformity can be found in mimicry, and it can be
a very useful skill at times. Imagine travelling to a country where you do
not know the language and no one is around to help you translate. Could
you get by? If you want to ride public transportation, just watch what the
other passengers are doing. Do they buy tickets before boarding, or do

they pay a driver once they board? Following another’s lead is often the
best way to go, even if you are just walking into a new restaurant in your
neighbourhood.
The study of mimicry focuses on how we are influenced by a single

individual, but being part of a group can affect our behaviours as well.
Conformity refers to a change in behaviour to fit in with a group, whether
it is intentional or not. In the 1950s Solomon Asch developed a very
creative way to study conformity in the lab and conducted a series of
studies that are nearly as famous as the Stanford Prison Experiment. In

this method, a research participant would join a group of subjects in a
room and complete a series of very simple and obvious perceptual
judgments—judgments that anyone should get right (see Figure 13.1 ).
However, the other “participants” in the room were actually research
confederates, meaning that Asch had placed them there with instructions
to give the wrong answer at specific times. Despite the simplicity of the
task, the participants would often conform to the rest of the group and
give an incorrect answer (Asch, 1951, 1955, 1956).

Figure 13.1 Perceptual Judgment Task in Asch’s Conformity Studies
Which of the comparison lines is the same length as the standard line? In
Asch’s experiments, many people conformed to the confederates and
gave the wrong answer.
Top: Reproduced with permission. Copyright 2015 Scientific American, Inc. All rights reserved.
Why we sometimes conform so readily is an important psychological

question. There are two pretty clear reasons and they lead to different
types of conformity. First, normative influence  is the result of social

pressure to adopt a group’s perspective in order to be accepted, rather than
rejected, by the group. This is sometimes referred to as public compliance
because the individual modifies what they say or do without internalizing

their conformity—it is a public rather than private type of conformity
(Cialdini & Goldstein, 2004). This generally means that the person
sacrifices a little honesty about their own beliefs in order to avoid
criticism or rejection from the group. Second, informational influence 
occurs when people feel the group is giving them useful information. This can
be referred to as private acceptance, when people actually change their
internalized beliefs and opinions as well as their public behaviour. In this

situation, the conforming individual is likely to see other group members
as being better informed, having more skill, or perhaps better taste; thus
they are a good source of information.
The following experiment demonstrates that the two types of conformity

may work together: A group of young heterosexual men participated in a
study of facial attractiveness by rating photographs of females on a scale

from 1 to 10. Then they received randomly assigned feedback indicating
that the average rating for that same face was higher, lower, or the same
than they gave. In subsequent trials, many of the participants changed
their ratings to conform to the perceived group norm. Perhaps they

wanted to make sure they were doing a good job and using the same
standards as others (normative compliance). However, they changed their

behaviour even though their responses were not being observed. It would
appear that this represents private compliance—perhaps perceptions of
attractiveness really are influenced by what others think (Huang et al.,

2014).
Both types of influence seemed to be occurring in Asch’s studies as well.
For example, some of the conforming participants said afterwards that

they thought they had misunderstood something, or that there was some
sort of “trick” the others picked up on that they didn’t, because surely the
others couldn’t all be wrong if they were all saying the same thing. Other
people reported that they didn’t want to stand out or make a scene by
being the disagreeable person, so they just went along with the group. In
everyday contexts, both types of influence are often at work, making us
easily swayed by other people. We will be especially vulnerable to social

influence when we are uncertain about the situation, although as Asch
showed us, social influence is powerful enough to make us doubt
ourselves even when the situation is pretty clear and unambiguous. Many
factors work together to determine, in a given situation, the strength of
social influence pressures and whether or not a person ends up
conforming (see Table 13.1 ).
Table 13.1 Personal and Situational Factors Contribute to Conformity

Groupthink
Despite the old proverb, two heads are not always better than one, and
six can be downright harmful. Probably the best example of this case is
the phenomenon of groupthink , a decision-making problem in which
group members avoid arguments and strive for agreement. At first, this might
sound like a good thing. Conflicts can be unpleasant for some people and
they can certainly get in the way of group decision making. But
groupthink does not always promote good decision making.
When group members are more concerned with avoiding disagreements
than with generating ideas, three main problems occur. First, group
members may minimize or ignore potential problems and risks in the
ideas they are considering. The lack of ability to critically question or
disagree with ideas means that people will emphasize potential rewards
and successes and overlook potentially disastrous things that might go
wrong. Second, groups will likely settle too quickly on ideas, because
social pressures will make people uncomfortable with prolonging a
decision-making process. Instead, they will simply agree with one of the
existing ideas. As a result, many potential ideas are never brought to the
table for consideration. Third, groups often become overconfident and
therefore less likely to carefully examine the consequences of their
decisions, leading them to be less likely to learn from their mistakes
(Ahlfinger & Esser, 2001; Janis, 1972). All things considered, groupthink
seems like a pretty bad outcome!

Historians have implicated groupthink in some truly terrible decisions.
There was the 1986 decision to launch the space shuttle Challenger
despite safety concerns raised by engineers (the shuttle broke apart 73
seconds into its flight, killing seven astronauts) and the 1961 Bay of Pigs
invasion, when a U.S.-sponsored military invasion attempting to
orchestrate an overthrow of Cuban leader Fidel Castro was soundly
defeated. A more recent example comes from the decisions made by the
Bush administration in the United States. and the Blair administration in
the United Kingdom to start a preemptive war in Iraq. Their justification
was that Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein was manufacturing weapons of

massive destruction (WMDs), and therefore he needed to be stopped
before he could launch them. However, both administrations were widely
criticized for seeking and accepting supporting information while
ignoring or downplaying conflicting information. Because of the power of
groupthink, the leaders became more and more confidant in their use of
faulty evidence. Now, more than a decade and a half later, no WMDs
have ever been found, thousands of military personnel and over 100 000
civilians died, and that region remains in turmoil.
Some groups are more susceptible to groupthink than others, and
psychologists have turned to laboratory research to find out when and

why. Their work revealed that when groupthink occurs, there is often a
strong or “directive” leader—specifically, an individual who suppresses

dissenters and encourages the group to consider fewer alternative ideas
(Ahlfinger & Esser, 2001). Also, groups in which members are more
similar to each other, especially in shared sociopolitical perspectives, are
more likely to fall into groupthink (e.g., Schulz-Hardt et al., 2000).

To Act or Not to Act: Obedience, the
Bystander Effect, and Altruism
So far in this module, we have seen that situational factors can have a
great impact on behaviour. In some cases these effects happen completely
without our awareness; that can certainly be true for mimicry, adopting
roles and norms, and participating in groupthink. Although there are
many cases in which people do make conscious decisions—particularly

with conformity and social loafing, in this section, we turn to situations in
which people have to make a decision to act or not to act.

Obedience to Authority
If there was a pivotal world event that stimulated research on obedience,
it would have to be the number of military personnel in World War II
who committed atrocities. The fact that so many average German citizens
actively participated in the rounding up, incarceration, torture, and
murder of millions of people must raise the question: Were they already
evil people? Or were most of them just normal people following the
instructions of their leaders? Most of us believe that we would never do
such things, no matter how powerful the situation. If we were asked to
harm somebody against their will, and we found it immoral, we would
say no. Right? The Milgram obedience experiments (1963, 1974) have
thoroughly shaken our confidence in that belief. In his now-famous
studies, Stanley Milgram showed the world just how powerful authority
could be, and how easily otherwise good, normal people could be made
to act inhumanely.
Consider what happened in Milgram’s study:
Participants were told the study is about the effects of punishment on
memory. They, and the other supposed participant (who is actually a
confederate), a friendly middle-aged man, drew slips of paper in
order to determine who would be the “teacher” and who would be
the “learner.” The draw was secretly rigged so that the participants
were always the teacher.

The teacher’s job was to read a series of word pairs to the learner,
and then to test him on his memory of the word pairs. The learner
was in a separate room hooked up to an electric shock machine. Each
time the learner got an answer wrong, the teacher had to administer a
shock by flipping a switch on a panel in front of him, and increasing
the voltage after each wrong answer. The switches went up by 15
volts until reaching a maximum of 450 volts, which was labelled
“xxx.” This process was watched by “the experimenter,” a man
wearing a lab coat.
As the experiment progressed, the learner started to make sounds of

discomfort in the other room, grunting audibly as he was shocked. By
150 volts he was protesting loudly and saying that he no longer
wanted to continue in the study. If the subjects continued reading the
word pairs and increasing the shock level, the learner got to the point
of screaming in pain, demanding and pleading, over and over again,
to be let out, pleading that he couldn’t take it anymore, even that his
heart condition is bothering him, and his heart is acting up. And then,
at 330 volts, the learner fell silent and gave no further responses. At
this point, subjects were informed by the experimenter that a non-

response is to be considered “wrong,” and the punishing shock was to
be administered.
If, at any point, subjects expressed concern for the learner, or said
that they didn’t want to continue, the experimenter simply said a few
stock responses, such as “Please continue” or “The experiment
requires that you continue.”
Milgram's Obedience Experiments

Source: From the film © Obedience 1968 by Stanley Milgram © renewed 1993 by Alexandra
Milgram, distributed by Penn State Media Sales.
Now let’s step back for a moment and put the situation in perspective. As
part of a psychology experiment, people were asked to shock a person in
another room and ignore this person as he expressed increasing

discomfort, screaming repeatedly, begging and pleading to be let out of
the experiment, angrily refusing to continue, indicating that he might be

having a heart attack, and eventually falling completely silent. There is no
compelling reason for people to continue, except a man in a lab coat was
telling them to do so. What would you do? If you are like most people,
you probably feel that you would refuse to continue whenever the
“learner” said that he didn’t want to continue (which happened quite
early, 150 volts). In fact, a group of psychiatrists at Yale University were

asked to predict ahead of time how many people would obey all the way
to the end of the experiment, and they estimated it would be about 1 in
1000—the base rate of sadistic or psychopathic individuals in the

population (Milgram, 1974). But overall, Milgram’s results were pretty
grim: most subjects continued (approximately 65% in most versions of
the study), despite the protestations of the learner, simply because an

“authority figure” told them to.
It’s important to point out that subjects were not sadists, gleefully
shocking their partners. Many were deeply distressed themselves, telling

the experimenter they didn’t want to continue, arguing with him, and so
on. As Milgram wrote:
Subjects were observed to sweat, tremble, stutter, bite their lips, groan, and dig their
fingernails into their flesh. These were characteristic rather than exceptional responses. . . . At
one point he (one of the participants) pushed his fist into his forehead and muttered, “Oh
God, let’s stop it.” And yet he continued to respond to every word of the experimenter, and
obeyed to the end. . . . (1963, pp. 371–378)
Why would people put themselves and another person through such
agony just for an experiment? Interestingly, Milgram ran other variants of
this experiment, trying to see what might change obedience rates.
Milgram tried to reduce the pressure from authority in several ways, such
as having the experimenter give orders from another room, by phone.

Milgram also tried to increase sense of the learner’s distress, such as by
having subjects and learners in the same room, and even requiring
subjects to physically press the learner’s hand onto a shock. Although the
rates of obedience are somewhat lower in these experiments, they
remained higher than anyone expected (often around 30%). Reducing the
appearance of authority and increasing the suffering of the learner clearly
helped, but did not resolve the situation.
There were two especially interesting and powerful variations. One
experiment looked at whether it is easier for a group to resist the
experimenter, pitting the power of the group against the power of

authority. In this experiment, there were three teachers making decisions
collectively. Two of the teachers were confederates, pretending to be real
subjects; the other teacher was the actual subject. When the two
confederate teachers made the decision to not continue with the
experiment, 90% of subjects also refused. (We would note that it seems
surprising that only 90% of them refused, leaving a full 10% of people still
obeying the experimenter to the bitter end. Still, 10% obedience is a far
cry from the 65% of the original study.) This particular variation is
important because it illustrates again the power of dissent. As in the Asch

study, if even a couple of people are courageous enough to fight for what
is “right,” they make it much easier for others to do the same.
Milgram himself believed that these studies provided insight into the
horrors of the Holocaust, particularly how so many millions of people

could be “evil” enough to willingly participate in the Nazi death machine,
or to stand passively by while such a brutal genocide took place.
The Bystander Effect: Situational Influences
on Helping Behaviour
As is often the case—as it certainly was for Milgram—a single, shocking,
real-world event led to a flurry of psychological research on a social topic;
in this case, the topic is why bystanders may or may not help someone in
need. The event was reported on the front pages with sensationalized
reporting: In the middle of a cold night in 1964, a young woman, Kitty
Genovese, was sexually assaulted and stabbed to death outside an
apartment building in New York City. The papers said 38 neighbours
heard her screams, but did nothing for over 30 minutes. When the police
were finally called, they were too late to save Kitty’s life. Naturally, people
were shocked and outraged that so many could have allowed a young
woman to be assaulted without doing anything to help her. How is it
possible that not one person intervened? Have we become so selfish and
disconnected from each other that we don’t get involved even when
someone’s life is on the line?
Kitty Genovese: Her tragic murder in 1964 led to groundbreaking studies
on the bystander effect.
New York Daily News/Getty Images
Before continuing, we should mention that several decades later, the
sensationalism in the reporting became more apparent. Far fewer than 38

people actually understood what they were hearing. After all, when you
live in a highly populated urban area, it is not uncommon to hear noises,

including shouting, in the middle of the night. If you called the police
every time someone shouted, they may soon stop taking your calls. So,
some of the apparent apathy could have been due to confusion and
uncertainty, rather than a lack of caring (Manning et al., 2007).
Nevertheless, the event launched an important line of research that found

similar effects in many situations.
Watch Under the Influence of Others

The Bystander Effect
We have seen how powerful norms can be in shaping behaviour
as well as how difficult it can be if you don’t follow along. This is

definitely true for the reciprocity norm, which is basically the
social psychology way of saying “we should all look out for each
other.” This is the norm that leads us to help others while
understanding that others will help us. If you drop your keys on
the sidewalk, more often than not, someone will call to you and
pick up your keys for you. It’s a very powerful norm and we
respond to it every day. So why does it break down sometimes,
as it seems to have done in the Kitty Genovese case?
What do we know about the bystander effect?

Although the Kitty Genovese story was exaggerated in the news,
it is an example of individuals failing to help someone in need.
This phenomenon is now known as the bystander effect  (also
known as bystander apathy), and is the observation that an
individual is less likely to help when they perceive that others are not
helping. Sadly, there are many more stories that tell of similar
events. Although they usually unfold in the same way, modern
technology adds a new dimension. In 2018, for example,
Alexandra Levine wrote in the New York Times that she had called
for emergency help the prior week when she came across a
woman in a subway station who had fallen down the stairs
toward the platform. The station was far from empty, yet
everyone else was hurrying past her, some even stopping to catch
an image of it on their mobile phones (Levine, 2018).
How can science study the bystander effect?

Within months of the Kitty Genovese tragedy, researchers began
developing methods of re-creating bystander effects in the

laboratory. For example, in one of the first studies, an individual
volunteer was ushered into a small room with an intercom under
the premise that they would be conversing with other
participants (in reality, research confederates) waiting in similar
rooms down the hall. As the conversation began, one confederate
reported being prone to seizures and subsequently asked for help
as a seizure apparently began. The researchers could then
observe if the participant helped and if so, how long they waited
before acting. Remember, the researchers were interested in how
the presence of others might affect a bystander’s reaction.
Therefore, each time a new participant arrived for the study, the
researchers manipulated the number of confederates so that the

participant would be talking to one, two, or three confederates. It
turns out that the more confederates there were, the longer it
took the true participant to react to the calls for help (Latané &
Darley, 1968).
Why does the presence of others reduce the tendency to help? If
you think of bystander apathy as a type of conformity, you might

be able to anticipate the hypotheses they proposed and then
confirmed with their experiments. First, there are normative

influences. When one person sees another in need of help, they
may ask themselves, What happens if I try to intervene and wind up

embarrassing myself? Second, there are informational influences.
The bystander is likely to wonder: What if the others know
something I don’t? Am I blowing this out of proportion (Karakashian
et al., 2006; Prentice & Miller, 1993)? In addition to explanations
based on conformity, Latané and Darley also observed diffusion

of responsibility , the reduced personal responsibility that a person
feels when more people are present in a situation (Figure 13.2 ). In
other words, if everybody thinks someone else will take on the
responsibility of helping, nobody will do anything. These are

natural questions and assumptions people make. Fortunately,
they do not always result in the bystander effect. This is
especially true for bystanders with specific training, such as CPR

(Huston et al., 1981), or those with a social connection to the
person in need (Levine & Crowther, 2008).
Figure 13.2 Diffusion of Responsibility
If one person witnesses an emergency, it is as if 100% of the

responsibility for helping falls on that person. If 10 people
witness an emergency, that responsibility is diffused, so it is as if
each person feels only 10% of the responsibility—which may not
be enough to motivate a person to act.
As the news reports demonstrated, it is important to approach
this topic critically. The shocking nature of bystander effects can

easily lead to exaggeration and overly emotional thinking. A
critical examination reveals that, yes, it does happen, but
probably not as often as we think. Critical thinking requires us to
consider counter examples: Can you think of situations in which

crowds have rushed to help? A quick search on the internet will
turn up more stories of compassion and altruism than of
bystander effects. Therefore, researchers should also study why
people do help, even when it puts them at risk. Finally, the

bystander effect can be explained by principles of conformity, but
what about personal safety? If someone is being physically
attacked or is in some other dangerous situation, should we
expect others to put themselves at risk?

To put this topic into context, let us return to the situation where
someone is at risk of being assaulted. This is all too common on

university campuses where as many as one in five women will
report being victim of a sexual assault. A substantial number of
these crimes begin at parties and clubs where the victims and
perpetrators are presumably surrounded by peers. What if those

peers intervened when they noticed one of their friends was
behaving aggressively with a woman? Or took a friend home
when her judgment had been affected by alcohol so much that
she was unaware of a threat? In fact, there are a number of
programs designed to reduce the incidence of these types of

assaults by educating students and encouraging them to get
involved. For example, over 25 years, one U.S. university
sponsored seminars to teach students how to spot risks, effective
ways to respond, and foster a climate where intervening is

expected. During this period, surveys show that unwanted sexual
experiences have been cut by over 50% (UNH, 2012).
When People Decide to Act
If this module is starting to bring you down, don’t worry. The world is
filled with human beings who have acted—sometimes incredibly bravely
—to help others who have been hurt or threatened. To counteract the
unpleasant outcomes of the Milgram studies, consider altruism —helping
others in need without receiving or expecting reward for doing so. For an
individualistic perspective, altruism can be a bad deal, especially when
putting yourself at risk for a complete stranger. However, as you can see
in Figure 13.3 , people are capable of incredibly heroic acts. The capacity
for empathy—understanding what another’s situation feels like and what
its implications might be—is a prerequisite for helping others; the more
empathy an individual reports on personality scales, the more likely the
person is to help. This is true even if helping requires very little effort
(Davis & Knowles, 1999). At the individual level, the willingness to help
depends on the situations; after all, some situations seem more urgent
than others. Willingness to help can also depend on the individual; some
individuals regularly feel more empathy than others. Also, individuals
who feel they have a strong, secure bond with family and friends seem to
be more likely to help others regardless of their group membership
(Mikulincer & Shaver, 2005; Stürmer et al., 2005).
Figure 13.3 Acts of Altruism

Steve Mack/Alamy Stock Photo.
Wesley Autrey, a construction worker in New York City, leapt in front of

a subway train to save a complete stranger, Cameron Hollopeter.
Hollopeter had fallen on the tracks in the course of having a seizure. As
another onlooker held Autrey's daughters in safety, he literally covered
Hollopeter and held him still between the tracks as the train cars rolled
just inches above his body. It was such a close call that Autrey emerged
with grease from the train's undercarriage on his hat. Autrey’s act was an
amazing example of altruism, as he could not have possibly considered
any benefit to himself at the moment of his brave act.
As a teenager in Pakistan, Malala Yousafzai had clear orders from an all-

powerful authority—one far more threatening than in any social
psychological study—and yet she made the choice to disobey. The
Taliban had established a police state in her village and, among other
things, forbade girls from getting an education. However, Malala insisted
on going to school and, for this, she was shot in the face by a Taliban
gunman. She miraculously survived and is now an international advocate
for women's and girls' rights—and the recipient of a Nobel Peace Prize.
Paul Pickard/Alamy Stock Photo

Module 13.1 Summary
13.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with social

influence.
Review Module 13.1
13.1b Understand . . . why individuals conform to others’

behaviours.
At its most basic level, conforming begins with mimicry, in which people
simply imitate others’ behaviours. Mimicry seems to help form social

bonds and encourages prosocial, helping behaviour. Conformity usually
describes the way an individual’s more complex behaviours evolve to
become like the behaviours of the group. People may conform because
they want to be accepted by the group, or they may conform because the
group’s way of perceiving reality actually influences the person’s own
perceptions.
13.1c Understand . . . how individuals and groups can influence

behaviours.
In many different situations, other people can change how we behave. In
helping situations, the presence of others tends to decrease the likelihood
that someone will help another in distress. In other situations, the
presence of even a few more people can set up conformity pressures that
influence us to behave like the others in the group. Interestingly, these
conformity pressures can be largely eliminated in at least some situations
if even a single individual is willing to go against the group and break its
unanimity. In many situations we are placed into social roles and feel like
we have to live up to the responsibilities of that role, even if we would

normally behave differently. When authority figures are involved, these
social pressures can become even more powerful—so powerful that many
people cannot resist complying.
13.1d Apply . . . your knowledge of being a passive bystander or

active altruist to understand your own likeliness to help.
People are least likely to help if they don’t feel personally responsible for
taking action, if they are unsure what to do to help, or if they are unsure
whether the situation is a genuine emergency. Thus, you can best ensure
that others will help you if you make very clear that it’s an emergency and
you need help, if you make a specific person responsible for helping, and
if you tell that person exactly what he or she needs to do. Additionally,
some people just tend to be more altruistic than others.
A Self-Report Altruism Scale
Source: Adapted from Rushton, Chrisjohn, & Fekken, 1981.
13.1e Analyze . . . whether people who harm others are

fundamentally hurtful, mean people or if their behaviour is the
product of social influences.
Behaviour is a function of the person and the situation. Therefore it is

impossible to say in general the extent to which guards who participate in
abuse or teachers who shock learners are driven by their own character
traits or by situational forces. A full analysis must take both sets of factors
into consideration. Clearly though, in situations in which people feel they

are carrying out the responsibilities of their role, peer pressure is exerted
through the expectations and behaviours of others, and the authorities
demand the behaviour, it becomes far more likely that some people will
act in ways that even they themselves would not have expected.
Nevertheless, even the strictest social psychological analysis would never
remove the final responsibility from the person. No matter the situation,
we can always choose how to respond.
Module 13.2 Social Cognition
Stephen Chernin/AP/Shutterstock
13.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with social cognition.
13.2b Understand . . . how we form first impressions and how these
impressions influence us.
13.2c Apply . . . your knowledge of attributions and biases to better
understand how you tend to perceive yourself and others.
13.2d Analyze . . . whether people who commit discriminatory acts are
explicitly prejudiced.
One February night in 1999, four New York City plainclothes police
officers were patrolling a Bronx neighbourhood when they saw a lone
man on the street. The officers thought he was behaving suspiciously, so
they decided to question him. Upon orders from the police to stop, the
man ducked into the vestibule of an apartment building, reaching for
the door with one hand and putting the other into his pocket. Officers
feared he was reaching for a gun and opened fire. Nineteen of the 41
shots fired hit the man and killed him on the spot.
Tragically, the victim of the shooting was a peaceful and unarmed 24-
year-old man named Amadou Diallo. By all accounts, Diallo was a
friendly, industrious, and law-abiding man from West Africa, who had
come to New York in hopes of attaining a college education. Why didn’t

he just obey the officers? He presumably didn’t know the men were
police (they were not in uniform and were driving an unmarked car).
Besides, whenever four guys jump out of a car in the middle of the night
in the Bronx and start yelling, running into the safety of your home is a
sensible thing to do.
Much of New York was in an uproar over the shooting, and the turmoil
was only heightened after the four police officers were found not guilty
of any criminal wrongdoing. Half of all New Yorkers disagreed with the
verdict, and that figure reached almost 80% among Africans and
African Americans (Connelly, 2000).
In the 20 years since Diallo's death, we have seen many more events of
this type. People of all backgrounds attributed the shooting to hostile

prejudice. On the other hand, many other people and most police
officers defended the actions of the four officers, blaming the stressful
environment in which they work and the need for them to make a snap
decision in a potentially life-threatening situation. Notable movements

such as Idle No More and #BlackLivesMatter have created not only
robust and healthy communities, but also a massive increase in public

awareness, boots-on-the-streets activism, and meaningful political
dialogue and change.
Central to issues of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, and all other
forms of discrimination is understanding how human beings actually

do process information about the social world, and how stereotypes,
prejudice, and other social processes influence people’s perceptions and
behaviours. These are the questions we explore in this module.
The field of social-cognitive psychology is a fusion of social psychology’s

emphasis on social situations and cognitive psychology’s emphasis on
cognitions (perceptions, thoughts, and beliefs). Social-cognitive

researchers study the cognitions that people have about social situations,
and how situations influence cognitive processes. It is an exciting area to
study because it deals directly with the everyday social experiences we

encounter in our lives.
One of the central ideas in this field is that there are two major types of
processes in our consciousness: explicit processes and implicit processes.

Explicit processes , which correspond roughly to “conscious” thought, are
deliberative, effortful, relatively slow, and generally under our intentional
control. This explicit level of consciousness is our subjective inner

awareness, our “mind” as we know it. Implicit processes  comprise our
“unconscious” thought; they are intuitive, automatic, effortless, very fast, and
operate largely outside of our intentional control. The implicit level of

consciousness is the larger set of patterns that govern how our mind
generally functions—all the “lower-level” processes that comprise the vast
bulk of what our brains actually do (Chaiken & Trope, 1999; Kahneman,
2003; Todorov et al., 2005).
These two sets of processes work together to regulate our bodies,

continually update our perceptions, infuse emotional evaluations and
layers of personal meaning to our experiences, and affect how we think,
make decisions, and self-reflect. But not only do these two sets of
processes carry out their independent functions, they also can influence
each other. For example, explicit processes influence implicit processes
when our beliefs (e.g., my friend Bob is a kind person!) influence how we
process information (e.g., how much attention we pay to Bob’s positive

and negative behaviours). On the other hand, implicit processes can
influence explicit processes, such as when our automatic tendency to
categorize a person into a stereotyped group influences the judgments we
make about that person. Explicit and implicit processes are intertwined,
each influencing the other as we navigate the social world. In social-

cognitive psychology, models of behaviour that account for both implicit and
explicit processes are called dual-process models  (Chaiken & Trope,
1999).
One of the major contributions that this understanding has given us is

how our conscious acts are conditioned or influenced by a huge amount
of unconscious processing. For example, when a person makes a specific
choice to do something, that decision occurs after a whole slew of

processes have already occurred—the person paying attention in the first
place (choosing some parts of reality to focus on and ignoring many
others), interpreting information into an overall understanding,

evaluating different pieces of information, and forming judgments and
beliefs. So, who really made this decision then? And how can you say that
it was a conscious act, if the vast bulk of the processing was actually
unconscious? The critical insight is that because implicit processes
happen so quickly and subtly, our presumably conscious and intentional

acts are constantly being influenced and guided by our implicit processes,
and we are not generally aware of this at all.
Consider the police officers in the Amadou Diallo shooting. As soon as

they saw a Black man on the street late at night in the Bronx, a “Black
male stereotype” may have become implicitly activated (Bargh, 1999).
This stereotype then would have guided their explicit thinking, resulting
in tragedy. Indeed, the Black stereotype may have influenced their very
first moment of interpretation, which was that Diallo was “acting

suspiciously.” It would have continued to influence the officers’
interpretations of the rest of Amadou’s behaviours, until the critical
moment, forming the perception that he was reaching for a gun.
That’s the double-edged sword of implicit processes; they help us process

information efficiently, but they do so through creating biases. And when
these biases lead to bad judgments or decisions, it is very difficult to
recognize this or fix it, because we are not consciously aware of these
implicit processes at work.
Person Perception
The effects of implicit processes are dramatically illustrated by research

on person perception , the processes by which individuals categorize and
form judgments about other people (Kenny, 2004). Person perception begins
the instant we encounter another person, guided by our past experiences
with people and the interpersonal knowledge we have absorbed from our
culture. When we make a first impression of someone, we rely heavily on
implicit processes, using whatever schemas we may have available.
Schemas are organized clusters of knowledge, beliefs, and expectations
about individuals and groups that influence our attention and perceptual
processes in many ways (see Module 7.3 ). For example, a person’s
visible characteristics (e.g., gender, race, age, style of dress) all activate
schemas, and these schemas can bring certain traits to mind
automatically.
Thin Slices of Behaviour
One amazing aspect of these implicit processes is just how accurate and
practically instantaneous they can be. For example, within the first minute
of seeing your professor at the front of the room, you have already
evaluated them and made some basic judgments. If you were to fill out
your course evaluations after, say, one minute of the first class (which
would seem highly unfair!), your ratings would likely be very similar to
your course evaluations after an entire semester’s worth of exposure to
that person (Ambady & Rosenthal, 1993; Tom et al., 2010). What
happens in these situations is that we make very rapid, implicit judgments
based on thin slices of behaviour , very small samples of a person’s

behaviour. In even a few seconds, our implicit processes, guiding our
perceptions holistically and using well-practised heuristics, are able to
perceive very small cues and subtle patterns. This gives us instantaneous,
intuitive accuracy, at least in part.
Surprisingly, many of our social judgments are made in this way—
instantaneously, based on very little information. Whether it’s judging
people based on tiny snippets of conversations we happen to overhear
(Holleran et al., 2009; Mehl et al., 2006), or catching a mere glimpse of
their face (e.g., we judge trustworthiness, competence, likability, and
aggressiveness after seeing a photograph for less than one second; Willis
& Todorov, 2006). Research by Nicholas Rule from the University of
Toronto has shown that we can tell surprising things about people given
incredibly little information. For example, people can guess a male’s

sexual orientation at rates greater than chance after viewing his
photograph for a mere 1/20th of a second (Rule & Ambady, 2008), and
Americans can accurately guess whether other people tend to vote
Republican or Democrat merely by looking at a photograph of their face
(Rule & Ambady, 2010). Republicans are viewed as having more
powerful faces, but Democrats are seen as warmer.
Thin-slice research demonstrates just how quickly impressions are
formed, and how surprisingly accurate they often can be. Of course, they
are not perfectly accurate, and therein lies the problem.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecies and Other
Consequences of First Impressions
First impressions have a big impact on many of our social behaviours.
Even very simple cues, such as facial appearance, guide a wide range of
behaviours, from how a jury treats a defendant to how people vote. For
example, one study asked participants to act as jurors and evaluate
evidence against a defendant. If shown a photograph of a defendant who
simply “looked more trustworthy,” participants were less likely to come to
a guilty verdict (Porter et al., 2010). In another study, the outcome of U.S.
elections of congressional candidates could be predicted 70% of the time

simply using participants’ judgments of how competent the candidates
appeared in photographs (Todorov et al., 2005).
The fact that our implicit judgments can influence our perceptions and
behaviours has countless implications for our social lives, particularly in

terms of self-fulfilling prophecies , which occur when a first impression (or
an expectation) affects one’s behaviour, and then that affects other people’s
behaviour, leading one to “confirm” the initial impression or expectation. For
example, if you expect someone you meet to be warm and friendly, you
will probably be more at ease with them and will treat them in a warm
and friendly manner yourself. This friendly behaviour will make them
comfortable and will lead them to behave warm and friendly in return,
leaving you with the conclusion that they are—surprise!—warm and
friendly. You can easily imagine the opposite process, if your initial
expectation is that the person will be cold and unfriendly.
Thin slices of behaviour research shows that, in mere seconds, people
form impressions that are surprisingly accurate. For example, you could
get students to fill out course evaluations in university, evaluating the
teaching capability of their professor, in the first minute of the first class,
and they would be about the same as ratings taken after an entire
semester of being taught by that professor.
Left: Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock; Right: Glow Asia RF/Alamy Stock Photo
Self-fulfilling prophecies affect our lives in many different ways. For
example, if a person is confident, they are going to behave differently

than if they assume they are going to fail, nobody is going to like them,
and they will continue to be a loser. It’s the difference between the
socially confident person who goes to a party where they don’t know
anybody and end up having the best time and talking to all sorts of great
people; versus the person who goes to the party and expects that it will
be awkward and nobody will like them, so they hang back, keep to
themself, don’t initiate many conversations, and are stiff and
uncomfortable, so that they end up not having a very good time after all.
“See, I knew it all along . . . I shouldn’t have gone in the first place. . . ” is
a self-fulfilling prophecy.
This idea has truly caught fire in North America society because it fits in
so well with the “positive thinking” paradigm that so many people
believe. And indeed, there is some sense to this. Every coach, athlete,
parent, teacher, and anyone who has been a child at some point knows
that, in the moment, if a person has no confidence and assumes “I can’t

do it,” then they’re right; they can’t. This is one of the basic lessons of
growing up that we all learn at some point; you have to believe in

yourself. Because if you don’t, your lack of belief becomes a self-fulfilling
prophecy. This is one way that our implicit processes shape our social
realities.
The Self in the Social World
How do we decide what information to use when we’re trying to

understand other people or form impressions of them? What schemas do
we activate to guide our judgments? As discussed above, we may use
subtle cues in people’s faces or non-verbal behaviours, but what else
guides our judgments? Certainly, if the person falls into a group about
which there are specific stereotypes, such as categories based on race,
class, and gender, then these stereotypes often are automatically activated
and can colour our judgments (Bargh, 1999). But one additional schema
that is highly accessible, contains a vast amount of information, and is
therefore often used in guiding our social judgments—ourselves! Much of
the time, we look out at the social world through the lens of our own self-
concepts.
This has two very important consequences. The first is that we tend to
think that the way we are is the way people should be, and therefore,
people who are substantially different from us have something wrong
with them. The second is that we have a strong tendency to split the
world into Us and Them, and we are motivated to see Us more positively
than how we see Them. Understanding these dynamics gets right to the
heart of why there is so much intergroup hostility in the world. It also
reveals a tragic irony, which is that in the quest to feel good about
ourselves and be happy, we sow the seeds that will grow into distrust,
prejudice, and discrimination, thereby causing much suffering and

unhappiness. Let’s examine these arguments carefully, because they have
major implications for understanding why the world is the way it is.
Projecting the Self onto Others: False
Consensus and Naïve Realism
One way in which our self-concept affects our social perceptions is that
we tend to project our self-concepts onto the social world; this means that
the qualities we see in ourselves and the attitudes and opinions that we
hold, we tend to assume are similar for society at large. If we are sports
fans, we assume that sports is generally important for other people as
well. Even qualities we have that we know are not popular are still
projected onto society. So, for example, if we are believers in Scientology,
we will tend to assume that a larger proportion of the population believes

in Scientology than is likely the case, and we will assume there are more
Scientology believers out there than a non-believer would assume. This
tendency to project the self-concept onto the social world is known as the false
consensus effect  (Marks & Miller, 1987). It’s important to understand
that this is a pretty sensible way to be, much of the time. After all, if we
have to make guesses about people, why not base these guesses on
ourselves?
We also generally assume that our perceptions of reality are accurate, that we
see things the way they are; this is called naïve realism  (Ross & Ward,
1996). And it makes sense that we would make this assumption. After all,
who wants to assume that they are walking around deluded and wrong
all the time? Imagine being beset by doubts constantly, your life uncertain
and stressful because you are never able to trust your own judgments. So
instead, we operate under a basic framework of “I make sense,” and then,
by extension, “the people that I agree with, who are kind of like me, also
make sense.” And then, of course, by one more extension, “the people
who I disagree with are deluded, wrong, and quite fundamentally
different from me.” You can see the problem here. At the personal level,
we just want to feel good about ourselves and function effectively in the
world. But at the group level, we create intergroup biases and an Us vs.
Them way of thinking.

Self-Serving Biases and Attributions
This tendency toward naive realism reflects a larger, more general need
to want to feel positively about ourselves, to have a positive sense of self-
evaluation or self-esteem (Allport, 1955; Maslow, 1968; Sedikides &
Strube, 1995). Undergraduate students clearly enjoy boosts to their self-
esteem, reporting to prefer receiving such a boost even overeating a

favourite food, getting paid, having sex, or seeing a best friend (Bushman
et al., 2011). We strive to maintain our positive self-feelings through a
host of self-serving biases , which are biased ways of processing self-
relevant information to enhance our positive self-evaluation (Miller & Ross,
1975). For example, we tend to take credit for our successes but blame
our failures on other people, circumstances, or bad luck. Interestingly, for
many of the qualities and skills that are important to us, we assume that
we are “better” than average. This rather appropriately named better than
average effect has been shown in many domains. In one study of almost
one million American students, a whopping 85% viewed themselves as

“above average” in their ability to get along with other people, and a full
25% believed they were in the top 1% of this ability (Alicke & Olesya,
2005). If only the laws of math would allow this to be true. . . .
These same self-serving processes also influence the way we explain or
interpret people’s behaviour. Much in the same way that first impressions
are formed implicitly (which we discussed earlier), our explanations for
behaviours tend to start out as automatic and seemingly intuitive.
Imagine that you’re driving down the highway and all of a sudden some
other driver swerves in front of you, honking. You slam on the brakes and
turn the wheel sharply, narrowly avoiding a collision. Quick—what is the
first thing that comes to mind about the other driver? Probably, your first
thought is not the kindest or gentlest. You assume the other driver is an
aggressive jerk or maybe a bad driver. You yell, “You idiot!” and shake
your fist, which of course makes them feel shame. This type of
explanation is called an internal attribution  (also known as a
dispositional attribution), whereby an observer explains the behaviour of an
actor in terms of some innate quality of that person (see Figure 13.4 ). In
other words, you (the observer in the above example) explain the actor’s
behaviour (the driver who cut in front of you) as an internal part of who he
is as a human being (being an aggressive jerk, bad driver, or all-around
“idiot”).
Figure 13.3 Internal and External Attributions

But of course, there may be other reasons for the driver’s behaviour.
Perhaps he is swerving out of the way of a piece of debris on the road, or
just blew a tire, or just received a phone call that his partner is in the
hospital and is distracted, or he’s tired after a long day and didn’t look in
his blind spot that one crucial moment before swerving in front of you.
These are external attributions  (also known as situational attributions),
whereby the observer explains the actor’s behaviour as the result of the situation
(Heider, 1958). Generally, these external attributions are not what first
come to mind; rather, we come to them after thinking about it for a bit,
and realizing that maybe there were other factors causing the person’s
behaviour that we didn’t initially consider.
This tendency to over-emphasize internal (dispositional) attributions and
under-emphasize external (situational) factors when explaining other people’s

behaviour is known as the fundamental attribution error (FAE)  (Ross,
1977). On the other hand, when we explain our own behaviours, we tend
to emphasize whichever kind of explanation paints us in the best light.
For our negative behaviours, the mistakes we make and embarrassing

things we do, our attributions are much more generous. We emphasize
the situational factors that cause us to do undesirable things (e.g., we had
a headache, we were under a lot of stress, a family member was sick, and
so on). This bias may seem a little selfish, but there is reason to believe it
contributes to well-being. For example, people with severe forms of

depression and anxiety appear much less susceptible to the self-serving
bias—by perhaps as much as 50% (Mezulis et al., 2004). Thus the self-
serving bias might actually reduce our chances for psychological distress.
However, it also might prevent us from taking responsibility for negative

behaviours sometimes.
One rather ironic wrinkle in the story of the FAE is that it doesn’t seem to
be quite as “fundamental” as was originally thought. Research on cross-
cultural differences has shown that people make the FAE the most in
predominantly individualistic cultures such as Canada or the United
States, and the least in more collectivistic cultures such as China or Japan.
This different approach to explaining others’ behaviour can be seen in

how people interpret social events such as news stories. For example,
after reading about recent mass murderers in the newspaper, subjects
from China are more likely to emphasize situational explanations for the
murders (such as recent stressful events in the person’s life), whereas
North American subjects are much more likely to emphasize dispositional
explanations (such as the murderer being an evil person; Morris & Peng,
1994). This greater emphasis on situational factors in collectivistic

societies reflects stronger values toward maintaining harmony in
interpersonal relationships and fulfilling a person’s social roles in the
larger community, values that lead people to be more aware of situational
information (Choi et al., 1999; Nisbett, 2003).
Ingroups and Outgroups
Although this desire to feel good about ourselves seems functional and
healthy, it often has negative side effects. As we discussed earlier, our
self-serving processes also reinforce a tendency to be biased against
others. We are motivated to be biased against others because one of the
key ways we maintain positive feelings about ourselves is through our

identification with larger social groups (Fein & Spencer, 1997), and we
can therefore make ourselves feel good by feeling positively toward these
groups. In turn, one way to feel positively about our own group is to
focus on how much better we are than other groups we compare
ourselves to. Groups we feel positively toward and identify with are our
ingroups , including our family, home team, and coworkers. In contrast,
outgroups  are those “other” groups that we don’t identify with. In fact, we
actively dis-identify with outgroups.
This is where our self-serving biases can be so destructive. As positive

biases toward the self get extended to include one’s ingroups, people become
motivated to see their ingroups as superior to their outgroups—engaging in
ingroup bias  and, potentially, outgroup derogation. All in the service of
maintaining our self-esteem, we carve the world into categories of Us and
Them and then we automatically show a preference for Us.
A set of studies that began in the 1970s added a crucial insight to the
discussion of how we process information about groups. In real-world
social interactions between people, there is already a lot of relevant group

information available simply based on the physical characteristics of the
individuals. Rather than creating groups based on established
characteristics such as ethnicity or gender, researchers using the minimal
group paradigm divided participants into new groups based on essentially
meaningless criteria. In different studies, people were divided into groups
based on whether they preferred one painting over another (Tajfel, 1970;
Tajfel et al., 1971), or whether they flipped heads or tails on a coin toss
(Locksley et al., 1980). These newly formed groups had no history, no
actual affiliation with each other, and no future together after the
experiment was over.
Amazingly, even these completely meaningless ways of forming groups
are enough to drive prejudice and discrimination. For example, if people
are asked to distribute money between the two groups, they consistently
give more to their new ingroup members. These results suggest that the
process of categorizing the world into Us and Them is a fundamental and
practically unavoidable part of how we process the social world. It also
has some sobering implications. If the people in the group who flipped
heads in a coin toss prefer their fellow Heads over those nasty Tails, even
though they have no history of animosity, no competition over resources,
or any other grounds whatsoever on which to base their preferences,

imagine how much more powerful people’s biases will be when faced
with real-world distinctions and long histories of conflict and violence.

Appreciating the deeply biasing influences of making ingroup–outgroup
distinctions in the first place adds an important layer to our

understanding of these larger conflicts.
Social psychology tends to focus on processes that have caused social

problems. Because of this, the field is sometimes accused of making
people look silly, arrogant, or mean, but that is not the intent. So, in
closing this section, we want to make sure you remember that all of these
processes serve important functions for us. Without the false consensus
effect and our tendency to project our self-concept onto others, we would
be in a great deal of uncertainty about what other people are like; it
would be like living on a planet of mysterious and unpredictable aliens.

Without naïve realism, we would be plagued by doubts and would
constantly second-guess our perceptions of the world. Without a positive

sense of self-evaluation, it would be easy to feel useless, helpless, and
generally miserable. Without the ability to attach ourselves to desired

ingroups and distance ourselves from undesired outgroups it would be
hard to feel a sense of belonging (Cacioppo et al., 2003; Myers & Diener,
1995; Tajfel & Turner, 1986). From that perspective, social psychology
should be seen as a tool for helping us appreciate and respect each other
a little bit more.

Stereotypes, Prejudice, and
Discrimination
Obviously, the roots of prejudice are planted very deeply in our psyches,
stemming ultimately from our deep-rooted attachment to our own selves
and our automatic social categorization tendencies. Thus, while at the
explicit level we may strive to be egalitarian and not discriminate based
on dimensions such as race, class, and gender, our normally functioning

implicit processes continually split the world into Us and Them. In fact,
using ERP technology to measure brain activation, research has shown
that the perceptual system starts to react differently to people based on
race and gender within a mere 200 milliseconds (Ito & Urland, 2003).
When we try to change these implicit tendencies, we are battling our vast
and speedy implicit system with our weak and ponderously slow explicit
system. Much of the time, our explicit, consciously controlled self is going
to lose, and we will fall prey to our implicit biases. These implicit biases
lay the foundation for stereotyping, prejudice, and intergroup
discrimination.
From a social-cognitive perspective, a stereotype  is a cognitive structure,
a set of beliefs about the characteristics that are held by members of a specific
social group; these beliefs function as schemas, serving to guide how we process
information about our social world. Based on stereotypic beliefs, prejudice 
is an affective, emotionally laden response to members of outgroups, including
holding negative attitudes and making critical judgments of other groups.
Stereotyping and prejudice lead to discrimination , behaviour that

disfavours or disadvantages members of a certain social group. Taken
together, stereotyping, prejudice, and discrimination underlie many of the
destructive “isms” in society—racism, sexism, and classism, among others.
One of the central goals of social-cognitive psychology has been to
understand how these processes work.
Myths in Mind
Are Only Negative Aspects of Stereotypes Problematic?
When thinking about stereotyping, the first examples that come
to mind are usually based on negative characteristics.
However, it is certainly not the case that all stereotypes sound
negative. Masculine stereotypes include qualities such as
determination and toughness—those can be admirable
qualities, right? What might be counterintuitive to many people
is that even the positive aspects of a stereotype carry a kind of
hidden danger, leading to a tendency for people to believe it is
okay to emphasize the positive aspects of a stereotype in a

“benevolent or well-intentioned way.” This has been examined a
great deal with regard to sexism. Researchers have

distinguished between hostile sexism, or stereotypes that have
explicitly negative views of one or both sexes, and benevolent

sexism, which includes views of one or both sexes that sound
positive (Glick & Fiske, 1996, 2001). For example, consider the
dated saying that women are “the fairer sex.” A person using
this phrase may mean it as a compliment, implying that women
are virtuous, nurturing, and empathetic.
However, even stereotypes that a person may defend as being

“well-intentioned” can place restrictions on an individual’s
behaviour. If we consider women to be “virtuous,” they may be
held to different sexual standards than men and, as a result,
may be judged more harshly when they violate those

standards. Similarly, considering women to be nurturing and
empathetic reinforces the notion that women are the primary

hubs of family life, and therefore less inclined toward career
advancement in our competitive world. Even when women go
toe-to-toe with men in the workplace, they may be hindered in

careers that call for assertive or aggressive behaviours (such
as being successful in the business world) because the “fairer

sex” stereotype is pervasive in the organization (Glick & Fiske,
1996, 2001). Finally, you do not have to be a member of the

stereotyped group to be harmed by benevolent stereotypes. If
women are the nurturers, men who are seen as kind and
nurturing will be seen as less masculine. Thus, even seemingly
positive stereotypes can result in negative, unforeseen

consequences. The same is true for other forms of stereotypes
as well; if you think about all the types of people in the world,
you can probably find examples of hostile and benevolent

racism or any other stereotypes.
Prejudice in a Politically Correct World
Recent decades have seen incredible changes in acceptance of and
sensitivity toward social diversity and equality. Along with this
acceptance, a large part of the population gladly accept changes in the
words we use to describe each other. These people view language as a
way of being respectful. However, others sometimes disparagingly call it

“political correctness (or being PC).” This label suggests that the battles
for equality are basically over and everyone has equal opportunities and
freedoms. If that is the case, then asking for sensitivity and respect comes
across as demanding special attention or “playing the race card.” The
truth is quite different. Outgroup stereotypes and prejudices are by no

means a thing of the past, and neither are the discriminatory practices
that go along with them.
In the United States, despite the victories of the civil rights movement in
shifting the racial attitudes of the general North American population,

there is still prejudice toward non-White cultural groups. For example, it
still seems as though members of these groups experience the legal
system differently from others. In Canada, people of Indigenous descent
(about 5% of the national population) made up over 25% of the intakes in
provincial and federal prisons (Statistics Canada, 2018). A review of the
Toronto Police Department found that Black men were 20 times more
likely to be arrested than their White counterparts, and Black people were
20 times more likely to be killed by police action than White people
(Ontario Human Rights Commission, 2018). This is not just a Canadian

phenomenon. In the United States, Black men are incarcerated far more
often than any other groups (Smith, 2004). Records of police encounters
over the past 30 years confirm what many minority groups have long
claimed—that the police use more aggressive techniques on minority
suspects than White suspects (Smith, 2004; Weitzer & Tuch, 2004),
making them three to five times more likely to die in police
confrontations than White suspects (U.S. Department of Justice, 2001;
Centers for Disease Control, 2019).
This prejudice has seeped into the basic social-psychological functioning

of many people. For example, even though the general public denounces
prejudice and discrimination and holds values of universal equality,
studies of implicit processes tell a different story. When people (generally,
White people) first are exposed to Black faces, this automatically
influences a variety of physiological responses, including the activation of
facial muscles, cardiovascular responses, and brain activity related to fear
and negative emotions (Cunningham et al., 2004; Eberhardt, 2005).
In fact, measures of brain activity reveal the battle between implicit and
explicit processes. Over very short amounts of time, exposure to White or
Black faces activates implicit processes such as those described above,

indicating a racially biased pattern of processing. However, over longer
periods of time, such as 30 seconds, brain activity shifts, showing

heightened activity in the prefrontal cortex. This area relates to the
control of emotions and abstract thinking, consistent with a neurological

effort to bring values into our mind in order to control emotional
reactions. This teaches us a powerful lesson: Even if people abhor

prejudice at the explicit level of their awareness, they may implicitly hold
negative stereotypes and experience prejudiced emotional reactions.
Clearly, there can be important discrepancies between stereotyping,
prejudice, and discrimination at the explicit and implicit levels. This has
created huge challenges for researchers attempting to study these
processes, because of course simply asking subjects how they feel is only
going to reveal their explicit processes, which rarely include overt racism
and sexism. This has led to the invention of measurement techniques to
try to reveal implicit processes.
Psych@
The Law Enforcement Academy
Think back to the story of Amadou Diallo that introduced this
module. Imagine that instead of linking positive or negative

terms with Black faces in the IAT, you were asked to make a
snap decision whether or not to shoot a potential criminal. A

number of researchers have used video-game-like tasks to put
participants in these situations. In these video simulations, a

figure will suddenly appear, either holding a weapon or a non-
weapon (e.g., a wallet or a cell phone). It turns out that when
making these split-second decisions, people are a little bit

slower to decide whether or not to shoot a Black man holding a
non-weapon, and they make the wrong decision more often.

When a Black man is holding a gun, however, they make the
“shoot” decision more quickly than if the gun is held by a White

man (Correll et al., 2007; Correll et al., 2006). The logic is similar
to the IAT discussed above. Because Black and “gun” are

stereotypically consistent with each other, people have an
easier time processing these stimuli together than when Black

and “wallet” are paired with each other. Just like the situation
in the Amadou Diallo case then, people are more likely to
mistakenly shoot a Black man holding a wallet, believing that

he might be holding a gun; at least, they’re more likely to do
this in a video game.
Certainly a video game pales in comparison to the adrenaline-
fuelled confrontation that occurred that fateful night in the

Bronx. It is easy to imagine that the stress of a real
confrontation, combined with the complexity of a real-world

situation, would lead to an even higher chance of a mistaken
shooting occurring (Saus et al., 2006). To combat any implicit
influence of race on an officer’s decision to shoot, most law

enforcement agencies in North America have developed
extensive training programs, part of which focus on making
shoot–don’t-shoot decisions (Cordner & Shain, 2011). Programs
simulate a variety of firearms combat situations using a
combination of virtual reality, physical walk-through sets with

cardboard figures, and realistic mock-combat against other
people armed with foam pellet guns. Research suggests that
this training is helpful; even student volunteers in the lab can
be trained to reduce shooting errors through such means

(Correll et al., 2007; Plant & Peruche, 2005).
The split-second differences in the IAT may be related to

officers’ increased use of deadly force with Black suspects,
including cases where the suspect is unarmed. Here, police
officers engage in virtual reality training designed to reduce
shooting errors.
ZUMA Press/Newscom
Explicit versus Implicit Measures of Prejudice
If a great deal of modern prejudice has “gone underground” in
the sense that people hide it and give politically correct responses
at the explicit level, how can researchers accurately measure
prejudice in today’s society?
What do we know about measuring

prejudice?
Psychologists have developed clever ways of measuring the forms
of stereotyping and prejudice that are kept silent, either
intentionally or because individuals are unaware of their own
prejudices (Greenwald & Banaji, 1995; Nosek, 2007). In order to
do so, researchers needed to come up with measurement devices

that would reveal people’s implicit processes. This is no easy
challenge, because implicit processes can operate so quickly (in
less than a second), and so subtly that we are typically not
consciously aware of them.
How can science study implicit prejudice?

A major research breakthrough occurred in the 1990s with the
invention of the Implicit Associations Test (IAT ; Greenwald et
al., 1998). The IAT measures how fast people can respond to images or
words flashed on a computer screen. To complete the test, a person
uses two fingers and two computer buttons, and responds to

stimuli, as directed (see Figure 13.5 ). In the first block of trials,
subjects are supposed to press one button if they see a White face
or a positive word (such as peace), and a different button if they
see a Black face or a negative word (such as war). Thus, in this
round, the buttons are associating stereotype-consistent stimuli.
With these particular pairings, it takes people around 800
milliseconds (four-fifths of a second) to press the correct button.
Figure 13.5 The IAT Procedure

To complete one condition in the IAT (a), participants must use
one button to identify Black faces and negative words and
another button to identify White faces and positive words. In the
other condition (b), the positive and negative words are switched
to be paired with the other race (Black/positive and
White/negative). Average response times are faster when Black is
paired with negative words and White is paired with positive
words (c). Is this a sign of hidden prejudice?
The second block of trials rearranges the associations. This time

subjects press one button if they see a White face or a negative
word, and a different button if they see a Black face or a positive
word. Thus, in this round, the buttons are associating the stimuli
in stereotype-inconsistent ways. In this situation, people take an
average of 1015 milliseconds to press the correct button, more

than one-fifth of a second longer than in round 1. (To control for
any possible effects of going first vs. going second, the order in
which a person goes through these tasks is usually
counterbalanced across subjects, with some going in the order

presented here, and others in the reverse order.)
Why does it take longer to respond when there is a

Black/positive button than when there is a Black/negative
button? The researchers reasoned that racial schemas associate

more negativity with Blacks than with Whites. Because schemas
guide information processing, they facilitate the processing of

information that is schema-consistent. Thus, it is easier for a
person to make snap judgments to always press one button for
either Black or negative stimuli. But schema-inconsistent

information is more difficult to process. Thus, having two
different buttons for Black and for negative means that a person
has to override their automatic, implicit association between
Black and negative, in order to choose the correct response. The

size of the reaction time discrepancy between these two rounds is
believed to be a direct measure of the strength of people’s
implicitly held negative beliefs or stereotypic associations with
Blacks.
The IAT was a major breakthrough, suddenly allowing us to

directly measure a person’s implicit biases. Researchers quickly
started to develop ways of measuring all sorts of implicit things—
implicit attitudes, self-esteem, feelings of connection to nature,
and prejudice toward many groups.

Although the data gathered with this instrument show reliable
results, some psychologists have questioned the test’s validity: Is
the IAT really a measure of prejudice? Or is it possible that the
IAT is merely measuring the extent to which people have been
exposed to negative stereotypes, but have not necessarily
developed prejudices? After all, simply knowing about a

stereotype does not mean an individual believes it, uses it to
judge people, or engages in discriminatory behaviour.
Studies by Elizabeth Phelps and her colleagues (2000) suggest

that the IAT reflects a person’s emotional reactions to outgroup
members. In her studies, White participants were shown pictures
of Black and White faces while having their brains scanned using
fMRI. The amount of activity detected in the amygdala (a brain
area related to fear responses) when looking at Black faces was
positively correlated with participants’ IAT measures of implicit
prejudice (see Figure 13.6 ). This suggests that the IAT is
measuring something real enough to be reflected in neural
activity in areas related to fear and emotional processing.
Figure 13.6 Implicit Associations and the Brain

Researchers displayed photographs of Black and White faces. In
White participants, Black faces elicited more activity than White
faces in the amygdala, an emotion centre of the brain. This
activity was positively correlated with participants’ responses on
the IAT.
Source: Phelps, E. A., O’Connor, K. J., Cunningham, W. A., Funayama, S., Gatenby, J.
C., . . . Banaji, M. R. (2000). Performance on indirect measures of race evaluation
predicts amygdala activation. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience 12, pp. 729–738. © 2000
by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

The development of the IAT has fostered a great deal of research
and has been applied to at least a dozen forms of stereotyping,

including stereotypes of social classes (Rudman et al., 2002),
sexual orientation (Banse et al., 2001), and even fraternity and
sorority members (Wells & Corts, 2008). The results of all these
tests illustrate that implicit prejudice seems to be more prevalent
than people are willing to express in explicit tests (Nosek et al.,
2002). The IAT is also being applied to clinical settings. For
example, one research group developed an IAT that measures
attitudes about alcohol use. This instrument can successfully

predict how much alcohol someone is likely to consume, even
when explicit measures fail to do so (Ostafin et al., 2008). To the
extent that this methodology is valid, it is extremely valuable,
giving us a window into people’s private minds.
Improving Intergroup Relations
We are left with an immense practical challenge: How can we overcome
the implicit processes we have examined in this module and work toward
eliminating harmful stereotypes, prejudices, and discrimination from our
society? Unfortunately, there are no easy answers. But there are some
promising possibilities.
Kerry Kawakami at York University has spent more than a decade
researching how to overcome implicit stereotyping and prejudice.
Research in her lab has shown that people’s implicit networks can be
“reprogrammed” through practice. For example, we know that many

people automatically make dispositional attributions for others’ negative
behaviours (the guy driving the pickup is an idiot!), and this is especially true
for other groups (like all teenage boys!). But people can be trained to resist
the implicit bias to make situational attributions (maybe the kid swerved to
hit something in the road). This helps to prevent people from thinking of
others in stereotypic ways (Stewart et al., 2010). In another study,
Kawakami and her colleagues used a computer task to teach people to
make different associations with a stereotyped group. Subjects were
presented with photographs of Blacks and Whites, coupled with either
stereotypic or non-stereotypic traits, and were instructed to respond “NO”
to stereotypic pairings and “YES” to non-stereotypic pairings. After
extensive training involving many such trials, subjects no longer activated
negative racial stereotypes, even at the implicit level (Kawakami et al.,
2000). This suggests that, over time, it may be possible for people to
unlearn the stereotypes that history has provided us with. However, there
is a huge gap between the kind of intensive training that Kawakami’s
participants experienced in the lab and the real-world experience of
individuals who are bombarded with both stereotypic and non-
stereotypic messages on a daily basis. Nevertheless, these results suggest
that it is at least possible for people to “reprogram” themselves.
One of the most well-supported ideas in all of social psychology is the
contact hypothesis , which predicts that social contact between members of
different groups is extremely important to overcoming prejudice (Allport, 1954;

Pettigrew & Tropp, 2006), especially if that contact occurs in settings in
which the groups have equal status and power and, ideally, in which
group members are cooperating on tasks or pursuing common goals
(Sherif, 1961). Negative stereotypes and the attendant prejudices thrive
under conditions of ignorance, whereas allowing people to get to know
members of outgroups, to work together to pursue common goals, to
come to appreciate their membership in common groups or as part of the
same ingroup (e.g., we’re both Blue Jays fans, Canadians, or members of
the human species; Gaertner & Dovidio, 2000), and to develop

friendships with members of outgroups (Pettigrew, 1997, 1998) are all
different ways in which contact helps to overcome prejudice. In fact,

contact between members of different groups not only helps to combat
their own prejudices, but that of their friends as well. Simply knowing
that someone is friends with an outgroup member serves to decrease the
prejudice of that person’s friends (Wright et al., 1997).
Coming to see our fellow human beings as all part of the same human
family is an opportunity that recent advances in technology (the internet,
space exploration), economics (globalization), and, ironically, global
problems (climate change, nuclear proliferation) have made available to

all of us. This global perspective shift may, we hope, help us to overcome
our age-old group prejudices. Astronauts who travel into space and look
back on this one little planet that we inhabit often report that the
experience profoundly affects them.
The first day or so we all pointed to our countries. The third or fourth day we were pointing to
our continents. By the fifth day, we were aware of only one Earth.
Source: I Congress of the Association of Space Explorers Cernay, France, October 2–6, 1985.
Quote of Sultan bin Salman Al-Saud, © 1985 Association of Space Explorers. Used by permission.
Module 13.2 Summary
13.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with social

cognition.
Review Module 13.2
13.2b Understand . . . how we form first impressions and how

these impressions influence us.
We quickly form impressions, even when only thin slices of behaviour are
available to us. These impressions can be surprisingly accurate, but they

can also affect our behaviour in ways that tend to confirm our initial
impressions; this is the phenomenon of self-fulfilling prophecies.
13.2c Apply . . . your knowledge of attributions and biases to

better understand how you tend to perceive yourself and others.
It is important to understand ourselves and those who we interact with
on a regular basis. The research makes it clear that we often rely on first
impressions and thin slices to understand people, and sometimes we
succumb to biases.
Apply Activity
Complete the following exercise—and be honest—to find out more about
your own tendencies.
Review Description of Self and Others, Part 1

Review Description of Self and Others, Part 2
Source: Based on Nisbett, R. E., Caputo, C., Leganta, P., & Marecek, J. (1973). Behavior as seen by
an actor and as seen by the observer. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 27(2), 154-164
Source: Adapted from Nisbett et al., (1973). Behaviour as seen by the actor and as seen by the
observer. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 27(2), 154-164.
13.2d Analyze . . . whether people who commit discriminatory

acts are explicitly prejudiced.
It is certainly possible for people to commit discriminatory acts without
being prejudiced. Regardless of prejudice, stereotypes are absorbed from
the larger culture, and these can function as interpersonal schemas that
can guide how we see things and how we implicitly process information.
This can cause us to behave in a discriminatory fashion without us

intending to, such as being more likely to assume an ambiguous object is
a gun if held by a Black man, compared to when it is held by a White
man.
Module 13.3 Attitudes, Behaviour,
and Effective Communication
ZUMA Press, Inc./Alamy Stock Photo.
13.3a Know . . . the key terminology in research on attitudes,
behaviour, and effective communication.
13.3b Understand . . . how behaviours influence attitudes in terms of
cognitive dissonance theory.

13.3c Apply . . . your knowledge of cognitive dissonance to see how
well your beliefs match your behaviours.
13.3d Analyze . . . the difficulties communicators face in trying to
convince the public to take action on important social and

political issues.
Bill McKibben is a man on a mission. He wants to save the planet.
Actually, to be more accurate, he wants to save the kind of planet that
humans can live on. But unlike many people with such ambitious
dreams, Bill has a few very important factors on his side.
First, he knows what he is talking about when it comes to saving the
planet, having published many books and articles on the topic over the
past few decades. Second, he has the full weight of the scientific
community behind his cause, which agrees that the human species is
heading rapidly for catastrophe as we push global warming higher and
higher. And third, he has a global organization, 350.org, spanning
almost every country on Earth, with hundreds of thousands of
members. He also has some significant victories under his belt, from
organizing the most widespread days of political activism in history to

raising unprecedented opposition to key government decisions.
Although he has won some of these battles, he has not always been
successful. That was the case in his fight against TriCanada

Corporations’s Keystone XL pipeline to take oil from Alberta’s oilsands
and transport it across the United States; this project received

government approval despite his efforts.
For Bill McKibben, and for the human species more generally, to
succeed in the fight against the climate crisis, there are some big barriers
to overcome. Psychology provides a great deal of insight into how to rise

to such a societal challenge. Any social problem is, at some level, a
problem of human behaviour, and finding solutions therefore
inevitably involves changing human behaviour.
According to the American Psychological Association’s official task force

on climate change, “Addressing climate change is arguably one of the
most pressing tasks facing this planet and its inhabitants” (American
Psychological Association, 2010, p. 6). The task force was comprised of a
carefully chosen group of highly regarded senior scientists, including the

University of Victoria’s Robert Gifford. Climate change, like many other
social and political issues, is fundamentally a problem of psychology.

After all, it is human decision making and behaviour that lead to its
effects. This module examines how psychologists study changes in

attitudes and behaviours—not just in regard to climate change but in all
kinds of beliefs and behaviours.

Changing People’s Behaviour
There are four common approaches to encouraging positive behaviour

change and reducing negative behaviours:
Technological—making desired behaviours easier to accomplish and
undesired behaviours more difficult

Legal—creating policies and laws to encourage or reward positive
behaviours while discouraging or punishing negative behaviours
Economic—providing financial incentives and penalties, generally
through taxes and pricing
Social—using information and communication to raise awareness,
educate, and illustrate positive and negative outcomes of relevant

behaviours
Although each of these approaches obviously can have an impact on
public behaviour, they can almost always be combined in a campaign for
behaviour change. To return to the example of climate change, there are
clear examples of how organizations and governments have encouraged
ecologically responsible behaviour.
Technology—such as cleaner fuels, improved solar and wind power,
and more energy- efficient appliances—allows consumers to choose
greener options.
Legal actions include regulations on the amount of waste
corporations can produce and how toxic chemicals must be handled.

Governments provide economic incentives through tax breaks for
pro-environmental action, and fines for violating legal regulations.
Advertising campaigns can spread factual information while social
media campaigns help establish social norms.
As you can see, none of these approaches rule out the possibility of other
approaches being implemented. In fact, they are often stronger together.
Learning how to communicate effectively in order to influence attitudes
and behaviour has been a major focus of psychology for most of its
history, and we have learned a great deal about how to do so.
Persuasion: Changing Attitudes through
Communication
Social psychologists have discovered many important principles
underlying effective communication, and have shaped these into tools for
influencing all sorts of behaviours, from advertising meant to get us to

buy more stuff to pro-social causes such as getting us to donate blood.
The gist of these principles is explained by the elaboration likelihood
model (ELM) , a dual-process model of persuasion that predicts whether
factual information or other types of information will be most influential. You’ll
recall from Module 13.2  that dual process models distinguish between
automatic, nonconscious thoughts versus more deliberate thinking.
According to the ELM, which process a person uses is the product of two
factors: motivation and time. When audiences have interest in the topic,
they are more motivated to think rationally about it. When audiences
have time to make a decision, they will also be more rational. However, if
they lack either of these—motivation or time—then they almost certainly
will react more intuitively. Knowing this, psychologists can appeal to
people through two general routes: the central route and the peripheral
route (Cacioppo et al., 1986).
The central route to persuasion  is all about substance; it focuses on facts,
logic, and the content of a message in order to persuade. If the message is
sufficiently compelling, people will be convinced, internalizing the
message as something they believe in (see Figure 13.7 ). As a result,

attitude or belief change that occurs through the central route tends to be
strong and long-lasting. However, as you may have surmised, this is a
rational process that requires the audience to have both motivation and
time.
Figure 13.7 Central and Peripheral Routes to Persuasion
There are two ways that communications can persuade people. In the
central route people are persuaded by the content of a message, while in
the peripheral route they are influenced by the way the content is
presented, the style over the substance.
However, much of the time, people are not going to pay sufficient
attention to the content of a message. In this case, you would be wise to

take the peripheral route to persuasion , which focuses on features of the
issue or presentation that are not factual. Seemingly irrelevant factors such
as the attractiveness of the person delivering the information, or the
number of arguments made (regardless of the quality of those

arguments), can create a quick, positive impression. Lacking the time
and/or motivation to think about it, that first impression can be largely—
even solely—responsible for persuading an individual.
In so many cases, the central route is preferable because it is factual. You
would hope your physician prescribes a medication for you based on data
from randomized, controlled medical experiments, not the fact that the
pharmaceutical salesperson for one brand was really cute. It is also often
the case that peripheral tools can be quite dangerous; they can make even
very weak arguments persuasive because few people are thinking
critically about them.

Using the Central Route Effectively
In order to use the central route effectively, you need to be confident that
you have the facts on your side and that they are presented at a level the
audience understands. Also, recall that, according to the ELM, people are
only likely to take advantage of the central route if they are motivated and
have the time and opportunity to think.With these factors in mind, this
section of the module will examine some key strategies for maximizing
the central route.

Make It Personal
Making a message self-relevant is crucially important to motivating
people. Consider one striking study from the early 1980s (Gregory et al.,
1982), a time when cable television (CATV) was still making its way into
the North American viewing market. Researchers compared two very
similar persuasive appeals, which were presented to two samples of

homeowners to try to convince them to subscribe to CATV. The first was
an information-only condition in which homeowners heard this appeal:
CATV will provide a broader entertainment and information service to its subscribers. Used
properly, a person can plan in advance to enjoy events offered. Instead of spending money on
the babysitter and gas, and putting up with the hassles of going out, more time can be spent at
home with family, alone, or with friends.
The second group was an imagination condition in which homeowners
received this appeal:
Take a moment and imagine how CATV will provide you with a broader entertainment and
information service. When you use it properly, you will be able to plan in advance which of
the events offered you wish to enjoy. Take a moment and think of how, instead of spending
money on the babysitter and gas, and then having to put up with the hassles of going out, you
will be able to spend your time at home, with your family, alone, or with your friends.
As you can see, the two appeals are almost identical, providing the exact
same arguments; from the perspective of the central route, they should
have exactly the same impact. However, that’s not what happened: Only
19.5% of the people who received the information-only appeal signed up

for CATV, whereas a whopping 47% subscribed when they were simply
told to imagine themselves in the scenario! Imagine the profit difference
between selling your product to one in five or one in two people. This is
the power of making things personal.
This power has been explained by construal-level theory  (Trope &
Liberman, 2010), which describes how information affects us differently
depending on our psychological distance from the information. Information
that is specific, personal, and described in terms of concrete details feels
more personal, or closer to us, whereas information that is more general,
impersonal, and described in more abstract terms feels less personal, or

more distant. Importantly, psychological distance depends not only on
geography (people or places that are farther away are less personal), but
temporal factors (distant future or past times feel less personal), social
factors (people or groups that are further removed from your identity are
less personal), how abstract the information is (abstractions are less
personal than things that are specific), and even the level of certainty a
person feels about an outcome (outcomes that are less certain are less
personal).
Communicators should be able to make their messages feel more
personally relevant to the audience by working with these factors,

bringing the message close to home in time and space, showing how it
affects the audience themselves or their social groups, and making

consequences or outcomes as certain as possible. Think about some of
the issues we’ve addressed at various points in the text. For example,
many people fear the measles vaccine despite the mounds of evidence
from research and decades of clinical data that speak to the contrary. It is
likely that construal-level effects are happening. For a parent, you can’t
get much more psychologically close to anything than you do your
children—that opens up the opportunity to be swayed by non-factual

events such as fear of autism and the need to feel control over a situation.
The Identifiable Victim Effect
We are often most motivated by issues when they have a clear
message and strong images. The issue of school safety in the

United States is influenced by stories such as the horrendous
shooting death of 20 children and six adults in Sandy Hook
Elementary School in 2012. Following the news coverage, people
called for action, either for gun control laws or for tightening
security. The crisis facing refugees fleeing war-torn Syria gained
international attention when heart-breaking photographs showed
the body of three-year-old Alan Kurdi. Racial tensions in the
United States, which led to the Black Lives Matter movement, are
all too often linked with violence, such as the police killing of
Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, in 2014. These are all
upsetting social issues filled with real human tragedy. But some
causes seem to reach far fewer people, and that certainly is the
case for climate change.
What do we know about communicating

about tragedy and danger?
Communicators need to understand how persuasion works in
order to get people to respond to tragedies and threats. ELM tells
us that we have to understand the audience’s motivation to think
about the issue and their opportunities to do so. Although we
may not always be able to control these, it is certainly possible to

address motivation by decreasing psychological distance. In
terms of climate change, communicators can talk about the
effects scientists observe now, but these are often in other places;
they talk about what will happen if behaviour doesn’t change, but
that is often in the distant future. Therefore, communications
have often felt “distant” to many people, particularly those who
do not rely on a dependable climate in their day-to-day lives. In
fact, the term climate change itself implies something global and
abstract. When people do think of specific others who may suffer
due to climate change, they tend to think of others in the distant

future or in distant parts of the world (Leiserowitz et al., 2010;
Lorenzoni & Pidgeon, 2006).
How can science explain the identifiable

victim effect?
Many experiments have shown that information about tragedies
and threats has much more impact if it focuses on specific details
and concrete events than if it relies upon more abstract, statistical
information. For example, the identifiable victim effect 
describes how people are more powerfully moved to action by the story
of a single suffering person than by information about a whole group of

people.
In one study (Small et al., 2007), researchers gave subjects a

chance to donate up to $5 of their earnings from participating in
the study to an organization, Save the Children, based on

information provided in one of three conditions. In the
identifiable victim condition, participants read about Rokia, a

seven-year-old girl from Mali, who was desperately poor and
facing severe hunger and possibly starvation. In the statistical
victims condition, participants read about food shortages and

rainfall deficits affecting more than 20 million people in four
countries in Africa. In the third, combined condition, both types of

information were provided; participants read about Rokia and
then were also given statistical information about mass suffering
in African countries.
The identifiable victim effect was clearly demonstrated. People
who read about Rokia gave significantly more ($2.38) than

people who read general statistical information ($1.14). Clearly,
Rokia tugs on the heart-strings more than abstract numbers do

(see Figure 13.8 ). It is worth pointing out how strictly illogical
this is; if we were rational processors of information, we would

respond more strongly to statistics, which is essentially many,
many Rokia-like stories combined with each other, than to one

single story of Rokia, which is, after all, “just an anecdote.”
Figure 13.8 The Identifiable Victim Effect
Participants were willing to donate more money after reading

about a specific victim of starvation than they were after reading
statistics about widespread starvation. Surprisingly, combining
the story of a specific victim and general statistics led to levels of
donations similar to the statistics-only condition.
Source: Republished with permission of Elsevier Science, Inc., from Small, D. A.,
Loewenstein, G., & Slovic, P. (2007). Sympathy and callousness: The impact of
deliberative thought on donations to identifiable and statistical victims, Organizational
Behavior and Human Decision Processes, 102, 143–153. Fig. 3, p.149. Permission
One interesting twist in this study was that participants who were
given information about Rokia combined with the statistics

donated only $1.43, which was statistically no different than what
participants gave after being presented with the statistics alone,
and was certainly much less than participants gave after only
hearing Rokia’s story. This study suggests that trying to
simultaneously appeal to the head and the heart might not always
work! This has enormous implications for anyone who wants to
communicate to others; you have to very carefully consider the
balance of your factual information and technical details with
your stories, jokes, images, and metaphors. Clearly, it’s not as

simple as “have solid facts and tell a good story,” because
sometimes combining the two approaches doesn’t work.
Earlier in the module, we mentioned that abstract information is

experienced as more psychologically distant than concrete, specific
information. But this doesn’t go far enough to help us understand
the findings in this Rokia study. There are two key results to
explain. First, why does Rokia’s individual story have more
impact than millions of Rokia stories presented in the form of
statistical information? Second, why does combining Rokia’s
story with statistics actually make it less likely for people to act?
To understand these findings, psychologists rely upon dual-
process models (see Module 13.2 ) of information processing

(Stanovich & West, 2000). The experiential system  (Epstein,
1994), operates more implicitly, quickly, and intuitively and is
predominantly emotional; this system responds strongly to
personal experiences, images, stories, and other people’s
emotions. In contrast, the analytic system  operates more at the

explicit level of consciousness, is slower and more methodical, and uses
logic and discursive thinking (i.e., reasoning using language) to try to
understand reality. The analytic system specializes in
understanding, whereas the experiential system specializes in
intuition and feeling. With these systems in mind, you can begin to
see why Rokia’s story would be so powerful. Rokia’s story speaks
to the experiential system, thereby triggering emotional
responses, such as empathy, that would motivate people to give
to charity. The abstract statistics, however, speak to the analytic

system, the head rather than the heart. Less emotional impact
leads to less motivational strength (Barrett & Salovey, 2002;
Forgas, 2000). Without emotions, information about the suffering
of millions of people becomes “just a number,” an abstraction
that is difficult to feel.

Taken by itself, this single study cannot tell us whether individual
stories are more motivating. Although one might expect that the
most effective approach would simply be to appeal to both
systems, it seems that in some situations at least, involving the
analytic system at all can backfire. It is as though the analytic
system inhibits or shuts down the experiential system, putting

people in more of a cold, analytic frame of mind, so that they
have little access to their emotional responses. This may be why
the condition that included both Rokia and the statistics was no
more motivating than the statistics alone. The cold, analytic way
of thinking that was activated by the statistics made Rokia’s
emotional story have less impact than it had on its own
(Loewenstein et al., 2001; Slovic et al., 2002). Nobel prize–
winning biochemist Albert Szent Gyorgi sums this idea up nicely
when he talks about the difficulties trying to wrap your head
around the consequences of nuclear war. “I am deeply moved if I
see one man suffering and would risk my life for him. Then I talk
impersonally about the possible pulverization of our big cities,

with a hundred million dead. I am unable to multiply one man’s
suffering by a hundred million” (Slovic, 2007).

Obviously, we cannot dispense with talking about statistical,
abstract information if we are to communicate with each other
about what is happening in the world. It therefore becomes
extremely important to understand how the experiential and

analytic systems can work together, and how to make the best
use of them in crafting effective communication strategies.
This research is highly relevant to the challenge of motivating

people to take action on major societal issues such as climate
change (e.g., Slovic, 2007). The basic principle for
communicating in a way that motivates behaviour change is to

personally engage the person to reduce the psychological
distance of the information. There are many ways to do this,
including framing information in a personal way, describing
abstract information as personal experiences, focusing on the
near future rather than the distant future, emphasizing specific

actions that will make a difference, and using social media
strategies so that information comes from friends rather than
from strangers.
Nevertheless, despite all the tools that we have to communicate

and influence behaviour more effectively, countless questions
remain concerning how to make the best use of these tools.

These questions will have to be answered over and over again, as
we seek (and hopefully find!) solutions to the challenges we face,
from our personal lives to issues of global scale like climate
change. One of the biggest challenges that must be overcome

when communicating about any issue is to understand how to
connect the issue to the values of the people receiving the
message.
Value Appeals
As any good marketer knows, audiences are much more likely to listen to
a message that is framed in such a way that it seems relevant to their
values. Interestingly, pro-environmental behaviours have often been
framed in ways that go against people’s self-interest, involving trade-offs
between the economy or the environment, jobs or trees, comfort and

convenience or personal sacrifice (Schultz & Zelezny, 2003). And as
noble as it might be to sit in the dark, shivering through the winter, and
eating only locally grown root vegetables while having two-minute
showers once a week, these are unlikely to be the next hot behaviour
trends.
From a strategic point of view, appealing to your audience’s values
generally enhances the impact of messages; however, as we’ll discuss at
the end of this module, appealing to your audience’s existing values may,
in some cases, be detrimental to your cause.

Preaching or Flip-Flopping? One-Sided vs.
Two-Sided Messages
One potential downside to taking a straightforward values approach is
that you might sound “preachy.” People may feel like you are shoving
your values onto them, and therefore reject your arguments. On the other
hand, if you don’t make your own position clear and advocate clearly for
your values, people may think you are a “flip flopper” who doesn’t stand
for anything in particular, or they may just get confused while you
describe all aspects of an argument, and stop paying attention.
In short, is it better to give a one-sided message, arguing for a specific
position, or a two-sided appeal that acknowledges different perspectives?
You might think that the one-sided message is strongest, because it’s least
likely to raise doubts in the audience’s mind, but research suggests
otherwise (O’Keefe, 1999). It is actually more persuasive if you

acknowledge opposing arguments than if you just preach from your own
soap-box, unless your audience is unlikely to ever hear information that
counters your message.
By giving a two-sided message, you make it more likely that your
audience will see you as trustworthy and honest. But you gain in another,
sneakier way as well. By bringing up, and shooting down, weak opposing
arguments—or even completely fabricated arguments—you help your
audience resist those arguments in the future. In politics, this is often

called a “straw man,” but the social psychological term is attitude
inoculation , a strategy for strengthening attitudes and making them more
resistant to change by first exposing people to a weak counter-argument and
then refuting that argument (Compton & Pfau, 2005; McGuire, 1961). This
strategy operates in a similar way to how the flu shot protects you from
the flu. When you get injected with a weakened version of the flu virus,
your immune system has a chance to respond, building up the antibodies
it will need when the real flu comes along.

Clarity and Complexity in the Central Route
Another key factor that can easily derail communication is the message’s
complexity. If your arguments are overly technical or convoluted or use
specialized language, these can activate a chain reaction. Confusion and
cognitive challenge triggers negative emotion, which triggers a drop in
motivation and an increase in time required for comprehension, and

eventually an individual’s shift toward the peripheral route. This is a big
challenge for communicating about technical topics like scientific
theories, philosophical concepts, and the like. Strangely, experts are often
terrible at communicating their knowledge, tending to forget that their
audience may not understand the technical language they use and the
subtleties of what they are saying. Chip and Dan Heath (2007) call this
the “curse of knowledge.” Anybody who has ever listened to an expert
being interviewed on the news has likely experienced this phenomenon.
The expert may find the conversation fascinating and rife with meaning,
but to the audience it may sound like a monotonous drone.
The curse of knowledge was shown in an innovative experiment in which
subjects were assigned to be “tappers” or “listeners” (Newton, 1991). The
tappers were asked to tap the rhythm to a selection of extremely well-
known songs, like “Happy Birthday,” while the listeners tried to guess the
songs. To the tappers, the songs were totally obvious; when they tapped
out “Happy Birthday,” they would hear the words and the tune in their
heads and it seemed pretty likely that the listeners would be able to guess
the song; in fact, they estimated that listeners would guess about 50% of
the songs. To the listeners, however, the vague “tap-tap-TAP-tap TAP
TAP” didn’t amount to much. They guessed the correct songs a mere 2.5%
of the time!
This study illustrates how people with knowledge tend to overestimate
the amount of knowledge their audience will have. When you are
communicating, remember to keep your audience’s perspective in mind
and fight the urge to use impressively long words, acronyms, and
technical lingo. Saying less, and saying it in less complex ways, is often
saying more.
Using the Peripheral Route Effectively
To be an effective communicator, you can’t ignore the peripheral route.

Half a century of social psychology research has identified many powerful
factors of influence—far more than can be represented here. You might
even recognize some of these, because they have undoubtedly been used
against you many times, from corporations trying to sell you products to
people trying to get you to do them a favour.
Authority
The use of experts and authority figures to deliver a message can often
enhance the impact of the message (Cialdini, 2001). Authorities
presumably should be reliable contributors through the central route,
presenting facts and figures. But authorities can wield influence even
outside of their area of expertise—clearly it’s the status and not the
experience that matters in those cases. Dressing the part is important as
well; one amusing study from long ago showed that a man wearing a suit
who jaywalks against a red light will be followed by 3.5 times as many
people as the same man wearing casual clothes (Lefkowitz et al., 1955).
Uniforms influence behaviour by signalling authority and expertise, even

if we know we're only looking at an actor in a commercial.
Thomas Andreas/Alamy Stock Photo

Liking
We believe people we like. Communicators who connect with their
audience get their message across more effectively (Cialdini, 2001).
Liking can be influenced by numerous factors, including attractiveness.
For example, in a study performed for the American Heart Association,
attractive fundraisers generated almost twice as many donations (42%

versus 23%) as their less-attractive counterparts (Reingen & Kernan,
1993). In the 1972 Canadian federal election, candidates who were rated
as physically attractive got three times as many votes as unattractive ones
(Efrain & Patterson, 1974); in fact, politically unpopular parties had
substantially less attractive candidates, which may have been a big part of
their party’s lack of success at the polls! It is interesting to note that voters
themselves insisted that their choices were not influenced by something
as superficial as appearance. (In an interesting coincidence, the Prime
Minister at that time was Pierre Elliott Trudeau—his son Justin has also
received some attention because of his appearance.)
Thus, there are good reasons to be pleasant and appealing, and to look
your best, at least from a persuasion perspective. Highlighting any
similarities you may share with your audience, loosening up a little and
speaking informally, appropriate use of humour, and even complimenting
the audience, can all enhance your likability and increase the
effectiveness of your communication.

Social Validation
Because humans are such a social species, we use the behaviour of others
as a guide to inform us of what we should do (e.g., social norms in
Module 13.1  and conformity in Module 13.2 ). As an influence tactic,
social validation can be incredibly powerful. Social validation is at work
whenever you hear that a novel is a bestseller, a piece of music has

topped the charts, there’s a long line-up outside a nightclub, or “polls
indicate” that a political candidate is popular.
One such example of social validation used in climate change
communication occurred in the spring of 2013 when Bill McKibben’s

organization, 350.org, and several other organizations submitted a
petition with one million signatures, urging President Obama not to allow
the Keystone XL pipeline to transport oil from Canada’s oilsands to the
United States. Afterward, the fact that a million signatures were gathered
became a major part of their organization’s marketing messages. You can

see how social validation becomes a major tool for communicators.
Obviously, proponents of the pipeline would want to downplay these
facts, whereas opponents of the pipeline would want to highlight them.
Although the information may be true and the intentions are good, these
communications can easily backfire. In one study, a suicide intervention
program in New Jersey told people about the high rates of teenage
suicides. As a result, people who went through the program became more
likely to think of suicide as a way out of their problems (Cialdini, 2001).

Reciprocity
All cultures have a strong social norm that obligates people to repay to
others what they have received. This strong social norm is used by
influence specialists all the time, and it can be so sneaky we often don’t
realize it. Just think of the “free samples” offered by vendors, the “free
trial workout” offered by health clubs, and even the “free personality
assessments” offered by the Church of Scientology. Each makes you feel a
debt or obligation. The principle of reciprocity is one reason why
corporations donate to politicians’ campaigns, and why pharmaceutical
companies spend millions of dollars funding research; organizing
conferences; and providing gifts, stationery, calendars, and even pens to

doctors and family health clinics (Cialdini, 2001).
Reciprocity is often used in a two-step manner called the door-in-the-
face technique , which involves asking for something relatively big, then
following with a request for something relatively small. The logic is that once
someone has scaled back their request, you are obligated to meet them
partway. Professional negotiators will always start with a proposal they
don’t really expect to get; but they know that once they “give up” some of
the things they want, the opposing side is obligated to do the same.
The door-in-the-face technique can be used to surprising effectiveness. In
one well-known study by Bob Cialdini (Cialdini et al., 1975), people were
approached on the street and asked whether they would be willing to
volunteer to chaperone inmates from a juvenile detention centre for a day

trip to the zoo. When simply asked, 17% said yes. A second set of people
were approached and submitted to a door-in-the-face manipulation. They
were first asked if they would be willing to volunteer for two hours per
week as a counsellor at the juvenile detention centre and make a
commitment for two years. Everybody said no. But when they were
subsequently asked whether they would merely agree to volunteer to
chaperone inmates from the detention centre on a trip to the zoo for the
day, an astonishing 50% said yes. This one-two punch is very effective,
both because it makes the person feel obligated to say yes after you have
“backed down,” and because the second request doesn’t seem as onerous
when presented after the first, bigger request.
Consistency
One of the most powerful influence techniques, especially for long-term
behaviour change, is an old sales trick called the foot-in-the-door
technique , which involves making a simple request followed by a more
substantial request. To the travelling salesmen of days gone by, literally
getting one’s foot in the door meant that a homeowner could not shut
you out. In social psychology, the idea is that once you get the person to
agree to even a small request, it’s harder for them to say no to a
subsequent request (Burger, 1999; Cialdini, 2000).
The foot-in-the-door technique is also a sneaky strategy, because the

initial request can be so small that virtually everyone would say yes to it.
Nevertheless, it’s powerful, because it makes use of a very strong
motivation held by many people—the need for psychological consistency.
We’ll describe this in more detail, but just think of how people usually
react to being called a hypocrite and you’ll get a sense of the power of the
need for consistency. So, the foot-in-the-door technique packs another
powerful one-two punch—an initial request that’s hard to refuse locks you
in, and then you get cornered into agreeing to a much larger request (see
Figure 13.9 ).
Figure 13.8 The Two-Step Persuasion Technique to Encourage Community Service

For example, if you are at the beach and you want to go swimming, how
can you be sure nobody is going to steal your stuff? Just ask someone to
watch your things for you! Simple as that. Although this may seem
intuitive, you may be surprised by just how powerful this simple request
can be. In one experiment, an experimenter posed as a person sunbathing
on the beach, who at one point got up and asked whoever was close them
to watch his things; everybody said yes. Then he left, and shortly
afterwards, as you might expect, a mock-thief came along and attempted

to steal the experimenter’s radio. An astonishing 95% of the people who
agreed to watch his things attempted to interfere with the would-be thief,
even to the point of chasing the thief down the beach! But in the control
condition, when no one was asked, only 20% of people tried to stop the
thief (Cialdini, 2001). Imagine that—an additional 75% of us will become

heroic vigilantes just because some stranger casually asks us on a beach
to watch his stuff.

Commitments can be extremely subtle, another reason they are sneaky.
For example, one restaurant owner was able to reduce the rate of no-
shows (people who reserve a table but then don’t show up) from 30% all
the way down to 10% by changing two words in the script that his
employees used when scheduling reservations over the phone. In the old
script, the receptionist would say, “Please call if you have to change your
plans.” In the revised script, she said “Would you please call if you have
to change your plans?” Then she would wait for a couple of seconds until
the person responded and said yes (Cialdini, 2001). Saying “yes” is an
active commitment, and that tiny act was enough to get two-thirds of the
no-shows to call first and cancel. Other studies have shown that written
commitments (“sign here . . . ”) are even more effective than verbal

commitments, and commitments that can be made public are the most
effective of all.
The Attitude–Behaviour Feedback Loop
As we mentioned earlier, the reason the foot-in-the-door approach works

so well is because people have a general need to be psychologically
consistent—for their attitudes, beliefs, and behaviours to match up with
each other. Much of the time, we maintain a feeling of consistency by
letting our beliefs and attitudes guide our behaviours. We act in the way
we think and feel is right. But the relationship between our actions and
beliefs is not always this straightforward.

Cognitive Dissonance
Groundbreaking work by Leon Festinger (1957) showed that we can also
maintain a feeling of consistency by simply changing our beliefs to be
consistent with our behaviour. Festinger (1957) proposed cognitive
dissonance theory , describing that when we hold inconsistent beliefs, this
creates a kind of aversive inner tension, or “dissonance”; we are then motivated

to reduce this tension in whatever way we can, often by simply changing the
beliefs that created the dissonance in the first place.
This sort of belief change was observed in a dramatic way by Festinger
and two of his colleagues when they infiltrated a doomsday cult in the
1950s. December 21, 1954, was the date the world was supposed to end,
according to the cult’s leader, Marian Keech (not her real name). Keech
told her followers that she was receiving messages from aliens who lived
on the planet Clarion. The aliens had warned of an impending flood that
would destroy life on Earth, but they promised to come in a spaceship

and rescue Keech and her followers before the final cataclysm. If the
members kept their faith, the aliens were supposed to contact them at
midnight. The cult members were so convinced of impending doom that
they gave away their possessions, quit their jobs, and prepared for the
end.
Festinger and his colleagues, not being big believers in alien messages
about the end of the world, wondered what would happen when the
prophecy failed to come true. So, on December 20, the cult members,
including Festinger and his colleagues, gathered together and waited for
the spaceship to arrive. Midnight came . . . and went. A few minutes after
midnight the group decided the clocks were fast and any minute now, the
aliens would be contacting them. Then an hour passed. And another. The
group waited all night, increasingly confused, wondering what was going
on.
Finally, at 4:45 AM, it was apparent the Clarions weren’t coming to whisk
them away. Keech had been wrong. The cult members had made fools
out of themselves and ruined their lives. You might think that they would
slink back to their normal lives, beg for their jobs back, and try to recover
from the embarrassment. But no, the opposite happened. Keech suddenly
got another message from the Clarions! They told her that because her
little group had been so faithful, waiting all night for them to come, God
had decided not to destroy Earth after all. They weren’t fools; they were
heroes! Convinced that they had saved the world, Keech and most of her
followers (some decided this was ridiculous and ditched them at this
point) became even more evangelical, contacting newspapers and media
outlets, spreading the good word that the world had been saved
(Festinger et al., 1956).
Festinger and Carlsmith (1959) tested cognitive dissonance theory by
having subjects come to their lab and spend an hour engaged in a mind-
numbing study that required them to perform menial, repetitive tasks.
Afterwards, the subjects were told that in a different condition of the

study, a research assistant meets subjects beforehand and gives them
positive expectations of the study, telling them that it’s a fun and
interesting study. Unfortunately, the person called in sick that day, and so
the subjects were asked if they would play the part of the research
assistant for the next, incoming subject. All they had to do was sit in the
waiting room, and when the next subject came in, chat with them and tell
them the study was fun and interesting. Little did the unsuspecting
participants know that this was what the real study was about, getting
them to tell a “little white lie” and then seeing how it affected their
attitudes.
The subjects were also offered one of two amounts of payment if they
agreed to go along with the deception. Some subjects were paid $1, and
others were paid $20. After agreeing to play along and deceiving the
person in the waiting room, subjects then filled out a few measures of
their perceptions of the study. Lo and behold, after lying about the study,
the subjects actually felt more positively toward it! But not all the subjects
felt this way, only those who were paid $1. Why might this be?
The subjects who were paid $20 had more than enough justification for
telling a little white lie—“I did it for the money.” But getting paid $1 seems
hardly worth it. These subjects were left in a state of uncomfortable
dissonance, caught between the beliefs “deceiving people is wrong” and “I

just lied to somebody for a measly $1.” However, by changing their
attitudes—“I didn’t really lie; this study was actually pretty interesting!”—
subjects were able to resolve their dissonance and feel good again.
Cognitive dissonance theory can help to explain many puzzling

phenomena of everyday life. For example, why would perfectly sane
young people crawl through ice water in their underwear while others
stood around shouting at them, throwing snowballs, and even spanking
them? In the winter of 2013, exactly such an event happened at Ryerson

University, when aspiring frosh leaders went through a “hazing ritual.”
When it came to light, university administrators and even Ontario’s

premier were shocked and appalled, although no official action was taken
except to express disapproval.
Students at Dalhousie University, in the same year, were not so lucky.
Dalhousie suspended its entire women’s hockey team in January, except

for the rookies, who also lost their season as a result of not having a team
to play with. The previous September, the team had held a party at which
the rookies were subjected to hazing, and when it came to light, the
university administration reacted based on a “zero tolerance” policy.
But why does hazing occur? People have traditionally believed that
submitting new group members to rituals that are embarrassing,
humiliating, even painful and dangerous, helps to bond new members to
the organization, deepening their commitment and their feelings of
belonging. Cognitive dissonance theory suggests they are right. Being

humiliated and embarrassed would be generally dissonant with the belief
“I am a reasonable, self-respecting person.” But after you have just
publicly degraded yourself, it’s not easy to feel that way. One way to
reduce the dissonance (or discomfort) and reconcile your belief about
what you just did with your belief that you are a reasonable, self-
respecting person is to change one of your beliefs a little bit. For example,
if you suffered in order to join a really exclusive group, then this makes
sense. Of course you would suffer in order to join that group! And this is
exactly what people seem to do; after initiation rituals, they enhance their
perceptions that this is a group worth belonging to.
Interestingly, because cognitive dissonance is based on the need for self-

consistency, it does not appear to work in quite the same way across
cultures. In more collectivistic societies, for example, the need for self-
consistency is not as strong, because it is more widely recognized that a
person’s “self” is more fluid, manifesting differently in different social
situations. This is reflected in collectivists experiencing less dissonance
after making choices. However, research conducted at the University of

Waterloo has shown that people from collectivist cultures do experience
dissonance after making difficult choices for their friends (Hoshino-
Browne et al., 2005). It appears that the need for self-consistency still
exists; it’s just that the “self” is more interpersonal than personal.
Attitudes and Actions
If attitudes influence behaviours, and behaviours influence attitudes, then
you can see that the two are connected to each other in a circular fashion,
with each affecting the other in a self-reinforcing cycle. Because each
process affects the other, what happens in these causal loops is that
initially small changes can grow into very large changes over time. For
example, an initially small behaviour change can feed back to strengthen
the person’s attitude toward that behaviour, which leads to greater
behaviour changes in the future.
The foot-in-the-door technique illustrates this point well, because the

intial small behaviour may change the attitude enough to support a larger
behaviour commitment. Unfortunately for anybody hoping to use the
foot-in-the-door technique to change society in major ways, the strategy
seems most effective for encouraging the adoption of similar behaviours
(e.g., signing a petition for a cause today will make it more likely that
you’ll volunteer for that cause in the future), but it does not reliably spill
over to a wider range of behaviours. Spillover is even less likely if there
are clear, extrinsically motivating reasons for engaging in the behaviour,
such as saving beer money. Just like Festinger’s subjects didn’t need to
change their attitudes when they were paid $20 for lying, people whose
primary reason for conserving energy is to save money are not likely to
strengthen their pro-environmental attitudes more generally. After all,
they just did it for the money.

Nevertheless, as we have reviewed, psychologists have provided many
insights and tools for communicating more effectively to change people’s
behaviour. Hopefully some of the readers of this text will use these tools
to make the world a better—and more environmentally sustainable—
place. It’s up to you.

Module 13.3 Summary
13.3a Know . . . the key terminology in research on attitudes,

behaviour, and effective communication.
Review Module 13.3
13.3b Understand . . . how behaviours influence attitudes in

terms of cognitive dissonance theory.
When people hold cognitions that conflict with each other, such as when
they are aware that they have behaved in a way that runs counter to their
beliefs or attitudes, they experience an uncomfortable state of arousal
known as cognitive dissonance. In order to reduce this dissonance, they
need to change one of their conflicting cognitions, which often results in
changing their attitudes in order to reflect the behaviour they just
performed. In this way, behaviours and attitudes influence each other.
13.3c Apply . . . your knowledge of cognitive dissonance to see

how well your beliefs match your behaviours.
Apply Activity
This attitudes scale was designed to illustrate how cognitive dissonance
arises along with the cognitive reactions that seem to reduce the
dissonance.
Table 13.2 The Attitudes Scale, Part A

Table 13.2 The Attitudes Scale, Part B
13.3d Analyze . . . the difficulties communicators face in trying

to convince the public to take action on important social and
political issues.
Communicators face some key challenges when developing persuasive
messages. The example of climate change illustrates how the central

route may not be effective when challenging normative behaviours,
especially when it requires effort for the audience to change behaviour.

Many issues, including climate change, are experienced as
psychologically distant from the public, with consequences that people

feel are generally going to be experienced by people in other parts of the
world and by future generations. Added to that, climate change
information is also highly technical complex, and abstract doesn't easily

boil down to specific stories about "identifiable victims." For these
reasons, communicators often need to take the peripheral approach to
persuasion.
Chapter 14
Health, Stress, and Coping
14.1 Behaviour and Health
Smoking
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Media Exposure and

Smoking
Obesity
Psychosocial Influences on Health
Module 14.1 Summary
14.2 Stress and Illness
What Causes Stress?
Physiology of Stress
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Hormones,
Relationships, and Health
Stress, Immunity, and Illness
Module 14.2 Summary
14.3 Coping and Well-Being
Coping
Perceived Control
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Compensatory Control
and Health
Module 14.3 Summary

Module 14.1 Behaviour and Health
Stock_wales/Alamy Stock Photo
14.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to health psychology.

14.1b Understand . . . how genetic and environmental factors influence
obesity.
14.1c Apply . . . your beliefs about obesity to better understand
sources of prejudice and stereotyping.
14.1d Analyze . . . whether media depictions of smoking affect
smoking in adolescents.
Should consumers have to pay more for unhealthy or nonessential food
items that contribute to obesity and other expensive health conditions?
Taxes on these items are becoming increasingly common to offset the
public health costs of a poor diet. For example, in March 2015, the city
of Berkeley, California, instituted a “sugar tax” on sugary drinks such as
colas in an effort to curb the increasing rates of diabetes and obesity.
Sugary soft drinks contribute hundreds of calories to our daily diet

without providing any nutrition, and do little to leave a person feeling
nourished and satisfied. City officials assumed that taxing these
beverages would reduce sugar intake and improve people’s health.
Preliminary data suggest that they were correct. Residents surveyed
after the tax went into effect reported consuming 21% fewer sugar-
sweetened beverages and 26% less cola (Falbe et al., 2016). Based on
this initial success, it should come as no surprise that similar taxes were
included in political campaigns in a number of municipalities during

the November 2016 U.S. election. It seems a foregone conclusion that
these taxes will soon appear in Canada as well. On the one hand, these
fees may sound like the government interfering with our individual
freedom to eat and drink what we like. On the other hand, there is a
parallel precedent for sugar tax plans—namely, the massive taxes on
cigarettes that serve to discourage smoking and help cover the costs of
treating smoking-related illnesses. Plans such as sugar taxes tell us that
issues related to health and behaviour are becoming common topics of
conversation in many areas of society.
To what degree do you believe your behaviour affects your health? Each
day we make choices that shape our physical and mental health. We
decide what to eat and what to avoid eating, whether to exercise or to

relax on the couch. Some people choose to light up a cigarette whenever
the chance arises. Others make a point of avoiding places where people
are likely to smoke. The choices people make about their career paths
similarly influence their health. Workplace stress levels for air traffic
controllers are quite different from those experienced by small-town
librarians. The numerous and complex connections between behaviour

and health certainly have created an important niche for health
psychologists. These researchers study both the positive and negative

effects that humans’ behaviour and decisions have on their health,
survival, and well-being.
The desire to understand health puts psychologists in places you might
not have expected. How about the intestines? Research on the seemingly
endless supply of bacteria swirling around the gut shows that even
intestinal bacteria might affect mental health. That can be shocking to

many who assume that our digestive system and nervous system maintain
a clear boundary. Nonetheless, the microbiota—the immense variety and

number of microbes living in your lower digestive tract—directly
influence nervous system functioning. You may have noticed that

psychological disturbances (such as a very stressful event) may create
digestive discomfort as well. This is most likely not a coincidence. About
90% of the serotonin circulating in our brain was manufactured by

intestinal microbes (De Vadder et al., 2018), and, most antidepressant
drugs are aimed at increasing serotonin in the brain.

As you can see, there are connections among behaviours, experiences,
your body, and your health. The need for health psychology has become
far more evident over the past century because we now know that most
premature deaths are attributable to lifestyle factors. In the early 1900s,
people in Canada were likely to die from influenza, pneumonia,
tuberculosis, measles, and other contagious diseases. Advances in

medicine have served to keep these conditions under much better
control. Instead, people are now much more likely to die from tobacco
use, alcohol use, obesity, and inactivity. In fact, more than half of all
deaths in Canada in 2009 were caused by heart disease, cancer, stroke,

and diabetes. Although genetics plays a role in these diseases, they have
also been linked to unhealthy behaviours such as a poor diet and
smoking (Statistics Canada, 2012a). Clearly, then, our physical and
mental well-being are connected to the health decisions that we make.
Smoking
One of the most widely studied health behaviours is tobacco use.

Smoking cigarettes causes life-shortening health problems, including
lung, mouth, and throat cancer; heart disease; and pulmonary diseases
such as emphysema. Reports indicate that 21% of all deaths in Canada
over the past decade were due to smoking-related illnesses (Jones et al.,
2010). The life expectancy of the average smoker is between 7 and 14
years shorter than that of a non-smoker (Centers for Disease Control and
Prevention [CDC], 2002; Streppel et al., 2007). This number depends
upon how much, and for how long, a person smoked. Quitting by the age
of 30 greatly reduces the likelihood that a person will die of smoking-
related cancers, a statistic that is quite relevant to university students

(Statistics Canada, 2012a)! The costs in lives and money attributable to
smoking are massive, as shown in Table 14.1 . Despite these starkly
ominous figures, 19.9% of Canadian adults—22.3% of males and 17.5% of
females—smoke cigarettes (Statistics Canada, 2012b). In other words, 5.8
million Canadians perform a behaviour that is quite likely to harm or
even kill them. It should come as no surprise that such a statistic would
interest psychologists.
Table 14.1 Health Costs of Tobacco Use

Source: Based on CDC, 2009a; Rehm et al., 2006; Statistics Canada, 2012a.
Media Exposure and Smoking
If smoking is so dangerous, why do people do it? Why don’t they
do something safer, like juggle scorpions? This is a perplexing

question not only for psychologists, but also for many smokers.
One reason may be the exposure young people have to other
people who smoke: parents, friends, and even characters on
television and in the movies.
What do we know about media influences on

smoking?
There are many possible reasons why adolescents try smoking,
including whether family members smoke, whether smoking is
common in their culture, personality characteristics, and

socioeconomic status. Adolescents may also begin smoking
because they associate it with particular traits such as
attractiveness, rebelliousness, and individualism. One factor that
has received an increasing amount of attention from

psychologists and healthcare providers is the role of the media.
Specifically, does exposure to smoking in movies and
entertainment lead teens to begin smoking? Actors in many
popular television shows and movies such as Zendaya and
Timothée Chalamet smoke. Indeed, smokers are often portrayed
as sophisticated and self-assured, traits that many adolescents

hope to possess. In contrast, very few movies and magazines
show someone with emphysema or lung cancer.
How can science help us analyze the effects of

smoking in the movies?
To what extent do positive images of smoking in movies (and TV
and magazines) contribute to adolescent smoking? This question
has been addressed using a variety of methods. In one study,
researchers conducted a random-digit-dialing survey of 6522 U.S.
adolescents from all major geographic regions and
socioeconomic groups (Sargent, 2005). The adolescents reported
their age and indicated whether they smoked, and were asked to
identify whether they had seen specific popular movies that
featured smoking. The more exposure the adolescents had to
movies that featured smoking, the more likely they were to have
tried smoking. This relationship persisted even after the

researchers controlled for important variables such as
socioeconomic status, personality, and parental and peer
influences on smoking (Heatherton & Sargent, 2009).
The effect of smoking scenes on behaviour has also been tested
in the laboratory. In one study, 100 cigarette smokers between

the ages of 18 and 25 watched either a 10-minute video with
smoking scenes or a video that did not reference smoking. In the

break that followed the video presentation, participants who saw
smoking scenes were significantly more likely to light up a

cigarette (Shmueli et al., 2010). This result is likely due to the fact
that smoking cues such as images of smokers or of smoking

paraphernalia (packages, lighters, etc.) elicit cravings in smokers
(Balter et al., 2015).
It appears that how people identify with smokers may also
influence their decision to smoke. An experimental study showed

that adolescents who had positive responses to a protagonist in a
movie clip who smoked were much more likely to associate
smoking with their own identities. This correlation was observed

in both adolescents who already smoked and even those who did
not smoke (Dal Cin et al., 2007).

It is very difficult to establish that watching movie stars smoke
cigarettes causes adolescents to take up smoking, even though

the correlations might suggest that it does. When researchers
tracked the amount of smoking featured in popular movies from

1990 to 2007, they found that as the incidence of smoking in
movies rose, smoking among adolescents increased after a short

period of time. Likewise, when smoking in movies decreased, a
decline in adolescent smoking followed (Heatherton & Sargent,

2009). However, the problem with these correlations is that
multiple explanations could be put forth for why they exist.

Although the researchers would like to demonstrate that smoking
in movies influences audience members, perhaps the truth is the
other way around: People who are already willing to smoke

might be more attracted to movies that feature smoking.

Smoking by young people raises serious concerns about the
health and well-being of those individuals who start smoking at

such an early age. In addition, cigarette-related illness imposes a
major societal burden in lost work productivity and rising
healthcare costs. As the research shows, cigarette smoking in

movies is just one of many influences on smoking behaviour. Of
course, it may be one influence that could be easier to control

than, say, peer pressure. With scientific research in hand,
advocacy groups such as Smoke Free Movies, the (U.S.) National

Association of Attorneys General, and Physicians for a Smoke-
Free Canada have a sound basis for arguing against smoking in
movies—especially those that adolescents are likely to watch.
It appears that the work of these advocacy groups is paying off.
After peaking in the middle of the past decade, the number of

films including smoking is on the decline (Polansky, 2016). The
number of “tobacco incidents” in PG-13 movies specifically
targeted to teens increased from 565 in 2010 to 1155 in 2012;
therefore, the curtain hasn’t fallen on this issue.
Tobacco use in popular movies has raised serious concerns about

its influence on smoking, particularly among teens. Although a
cause–effect relationship between exposure to smoking in movies
and actual smoking behaviour has not been established, public
health officials have closely monitored the issue.
UPI Photo/Eduardo Sverdlin

Efforts to Prevent Smoking
Given the health problems (to the smokers and to the people around
them) and enormous healthcare costs associated with smoking, both
healthcare workers and government officials recognize that more work
has to be done to reduce smoking levels. Provincial and municipal laws
are reducing the risks posed by second-hand smoke exposure by banning

smoking in many public places—especially restaurants and public
buildings. As mentioned at the beginning of the module, steep taxes
applied to unhealthy products such as tobacco also act as a deterrent
against their use. Not only does such a policy tend to reduce the number
of smokers, but it also raises funds for healthcare and anti-smoking

campaigns.
In the 1990s, several countries added written warnings to cigarette
packages (e.g., “Smoking seriously harms you and others around you”) in
an attempt to reduce smoking rates. Unfortunately, these labels have had

relatively little effect. However, in 2001, Canada became the first country
to require companies to include graphic pictorial warnings on cigarette
packages. These images included rotting teeth, black lungs, diseased
hearts, and sick children; they were also paired with a verbal message.
Researchers found that the image-based warnings were much more likely
to be noticed by both smokers and non-smokers than were text-only
messages (Fong et al., 2009; Hammond et al., 2003). They were also more
useful than text-only messages in educating people about the risks

associated with smoking (Environics Research Group, 2007; Li & Yong,
2009).
Image-based warnings on cigarette packages are now used in over 30
countries (Hammond, 2011). Numerous studies have shown that these
warnings are quite memorable and are having the desired effect. Over
40% of Canadian smokers indicated that the graphic warnings motivated
them to quit (Hammond et al., 2007). And, although it is impossible to
accurately state how many people avoided smoking because of the ads,
surveys of Canadian adolescents suggest that these warning labels

discourage teens from taking up smoking (Environics Research Group,
2007). These smoking-prevention programs are therefore a wonderful
example of psychologists and government officials working together to
improve people’s health.
A new challenge that health officials must face is the issue of e-cigarettes
or “vaping.” Vaping is not quite as harmful as traditional smoking, but it is
not a healthy habit, and can still result in nicotine dependence. Although
it is technically illegal to advertise e-cigarettes in Canada, the

enforcement of these laws has not been as stringent as for regular
cigarettes. In the United States, advertising of these products is allowed.

A recent study found that most of the exposure that adolescents had to e-
cigarettes occurred on cable television networks (Duke et al., 2014). A

report by the U.S. National Academy of Sciences (2018) concluded that
adolescents who vape are more likely to try cigarettes. This should raise
skepticism that vaping is the “safer alternative.”
Obesity
Most college and university students are familiar with the term “freshman
15”—the supposed number of pounds students can expect to gain during
their first year of school (15 lb equals 6.8 kg). This term has stuck because
weight gain during the first year of university (at least in North America)
has become common, if not expected. It is unclear exactly how the term
originated, and research has shown that the 15-lb estimate is actually
inflated. In reality, male and female students who gain weight during
their early university career put on an average of 2.7 kg (6 lb) (Gropper et
al., 2009).
What accounts for this phenomenon? Several factors that are probably all
too familiar to many readers: increased food intake, decreased physical
activity, and, for many students, increased levels of alcohol consumption.
The lifestyle changes that students face during university affect physical
health. In addition, university in general (and the first year in particular)
presents new challenges that bring on a great deal of both positive and
negative stress, especially if students move away from home. The
freshman 15 (or 6) and other health-related issues are based on lifestyle
decisions we make. Six pounds (2.7 kg) is not a lot of weight—but habits
formed during any period of time, freshman year or otherwise, can be
difficult to break. In this section, we will examine factors that lead us to
put on weight as well as ways to use our knowledge of psychology to help
us lose it.
Defining Healthy Weights and Obesity
It is important to define your terms when discussing a concept. Doing so
ensures that all researchers are talking about the same thing when they
use terms like overweight or obese. When discussing weight, psychologists
and healthcare workers must also factor in a person’s height; being 91 kg
(200 lb) is healthy for someone who is 193 cm (6'4"), but would be quite
unhealthy for someone who is 157 cm (5'2"). To account for height
differences, people use the body mass index (BMI) , a statistic commonly
used for estimating a healthy body weight given an individual’s height. The
BMI is calculated by dividing the person’s weight (kg) by the square of
the person’s height (in m). So, if a person were 180 cm tall and weighed
100 kg, their BMI would be 100/1.82; the outcome of this equation, 30.9,
would be found on a table of BMI scores. In everyday usage, the BMI is
used to screen people for weight categories that indicate whether they are
considered normal weight, underweight, overweight, or obese. Someone
in the healthy weight range would have a BMI between 18.5 and 24.9.
People with a BMI that is less than 18.5 are considered to be underweight
and may be at risk of having an eating disorder (see Module 11.1 ). A
BMI of 25–29.9 is considered overweight, and a BMI over 30 is
considered obese. However, BMI is only a useful statistic when studying a
large group of people. Any one individual may deviate quite a bit from
the standards. For example, a weightlifter is going to carry a lot of
additional weight—muscle is much heavier than fat—and so a fit,
muscular individual will have a higher BMI without necessarily being less
healthy.
Obesity is becoming a growing concern across Canada. It is associated
with numerous detrimental health consequences, such as cardiovascular
disease, diabetes, osteoarthritis (degeneration of bone and cartilage
material), and some forms of cancer. According to Statistics Canada
(2011), 24% of Canadian adults are obese, with almost identical
percentages for males and females, although these rates differ across
provinces (see Figure 14.1 ). Although this number is significantly lower
than the 34.4% obesity rate in the United States (Shields et al., 2011), we
cannot afford to become arrogant. With a quarter of our population being
obese and another quarter reporting a body mass index that is

overweight, it is clear that body weight is a major health issue in our
society. Even more alarming is that obesity rates are on the rise. When
examining obesity rates from the mid-1970s until 2004, researchers found
that these rates remained constant until the mid-1990s, at which point
they spiked upward to the current levels (Shields & Tjepkema, 2006).
This report also noted that Canadians—particularly males—are becoming
obese earlier in life, which means that weight-related health problems
could occur at an earlier age than they have for previous generations. In
fact, some researchers are concerned that these health problems could
lead to shorter life expectancies than were enjoyed by previous
generations (Olshansky et al., 2005).
Figure 14.1 Obesity Rates in Canada

The rates of obesity differ from province to province. More information
about Canadian obesity rates is available in the 2011–2012 Canadian
Community Health Survey.
Source: Based on data from Navaneelan, T., & Janz, T. (2014). Adjusting the scales: Obesity in the
Canadian population after correcting for respondent bias. Health at a Glance. Statistics Canada
Catalogue no. 82-624-X. Retrieved from www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/82-624-x/2014001/article/11922-
eng.htm
Given that obesity is common and has a number of negative health

consequences, researchers are actively trying to understand its causes. As
discussed in Module 11.1 , weight is gained because of a positive energy

balance, meaning that too many calories come in and not enough are
expended. Obviously, overeating can lead to obesity. But several other

factors are involved as well, including genetic, lifestyle, and social
variables.
Genetics and Body Weight
Twin, family, and adoption studies all suggest that genes account for
between 50% and 90% of the variation in body weight, and genome-wide
studies implicate hundreds of genes that contribute to body weight (Maes
et al., 1997; Riveros-McKay et al., 2019). These genes influence body
type, metabolism, and other physiological processes that contribute to

body weight and size. For example, the Fat Mass and Obesity Related
(also known as FTO) gene is a risk gene for obesity, with a variant of this
gene associated with elevated food intake (Speakman, 2015). But this
gene and the many others involved in body weight also interact with
lifestyle and environmental factors.
Some researchers have suggested that genes contribute to the
development of a set point , a hypothesized mechanism that serves to
maintain body weight around a physiologically programmed level. The set
point is not an exact number of kilograms or pounds, but rather a

relatively small range encompassing 10% to 20% of a person’s weight
(Garrow & Stalley, 1975; Harris, 1990). Your initial set point is controlled
by genetic mechanisms, but your actual weight can be modified by
environmental factors—namely, what and how much you eat. According
to set point theory, if an individual gains 10% of their body weight (e.g.,
increasing from 68 kg to 75 kg or 150 lb to 165 lb) their set point would
make a corresponding shift upward—the body acts as though its normal
weight is now the larger 75 kg. Metabolism slows correspondingly, such
that this person now requires additional energy expenditure to take the
weight off. This process explains why people who gain extra weight may
shed a few pounds with relative ease, but find it overwhelmingly difficult
to continue losing or even maintaining their weight once they reach an
initial goal. Their bodies naturally pull their weight back to the set point.
Set point theory has a long tradition in the field of nutrition, but its
validity is challenged by research suggesting that weight gain and
difficulty with weight loss are unrelated to a physiological set point.
Rather, individual differences in physical activity may be a stronger
determinant of who succeeds at losing weight and keeping it off.

Specifically, people who gain weight expend less energy in their normal
day-to-day activities (Weinsier et al., 2002). Thus, the difficulty with
losing the weight may be related to lower activity levels, rather than to an
increase or decrease in a person’s set point.

The Sedentary Lifestyle
How do you spend your time when you’re not at school or at work? Do
you watch television? Or do you work out, or curl up with a good book?
Research shows us that how you spend your time can have a large effect
on your waistline.
Although there are number of activities that could increase the likelihood
of someone being obese, data from the 2007 Canadian Community
Health Survey (CCHS) suggest that television is the biggest culprit (see
Figure 14.2 ). This survey showed that as the number of hours of
television viewing increased, so did obesity rates. Only 13.7% of men

who watch five or fewer hours of television per week were obese;
compare this to the 25.0% obesity rate for men who watched 21 or more
hours of television. Similar patterns were observed for females.
Figure 14.2 Obesity Rates and Television Viewing in Canadian Adults Aged 20–64
For both males and females, obesity rates were positively correlated with
the number of hours spent watching television each week.
In contrast, the number of hours spent in front of a computer did not
affect obesity rates, at least in males; females who spent more than 11
hours/week in front of a computer had a slightly higher rate of obesity
than those who spent little time using a computer (18.2% vs. 15.3%,
respectively). Why was there a strong relationship between television
viewing and obesity and a weak relationship between computer use and
obesity? Both involve sitting in front of glowing rectangles. One

possibility is that computer use—be it video games, social media like
Instagram or Twitter, or even typing up an essay for history class—

involves a greater degree of engagement than sitting on the couch and
passively watching television. It is therefore more likely that people will

snack while watching television. One point worth considering is that TV
viewing and computer use are becoming one and the same activity, as
online streaming services are replacing conventional TV programming. It
will be interesting to see what the obesity-related data trends look like in
the near future.
Studies of children’s obesity rates are less ambiguous. In addition to the
strong relationship between television viewing and weight, researchers

also have found that the amount of time that children spend playing
video games is positively correlated with levels of obesity (Stettler et al.,
2004). Although some video game systems such as the Wii involve
physical activity, these options claim only a small portion of the overall
market, and that market segment is rapidly shrinking. Instead, many

games involve sitting in front of a computer or television screen rather
than engaging in exercise. This sedentary lifestyle can lead to poor dietary
and exercise habits (which may continue into adulthood), and helps to
explain the high childhood obesity rates found in many industrialized

countries, including Canada.
Social Factors
In addition to genetics and activity levels, obesity rates are also affected
by social factors, including influences from one’s family. Similarities in
body weight among family members are naturally influenced by what and
how much they are eating. What children eat is largely based on what
their parents provide and allow them to eat, and eating patterns
developed in childhood are generally carried into adulthood.
Sociocultural influences on eating certainly extend beyond the family.
Food advertisements trigger eating—after watching a commercial for
buttery microwave popcorn, you may have found yourself rummaging

around in the kitchen in search of that last bag you hope is still there.
Researchers have found that children who see food commercials while
watching a 30-minute cartoon program consume 45% more snack food
than do children who view non-food commercials. The researchers
estimated that this difference could lead to an additional 4.5 kg (10 lb) of
extra weight gained each year (Harris et al., 2009). Of course,
corporations selling unhealthy food are aware of the power of advertising
and use clever marketing techniques to promote unhealthy foods, often
targeting children by linking their food with positive emotions (and toys).
Psychology and Weight Loss
How can people use psychological research to help them lose weight?
The first step is to think critically about the weight-loss options that are
out there. Some advertisements tell people that they can lose weight
without exercising, just by taking a pill. Such options are often gimmicks.
Instead, we need to find a way to effectively motivate people to change

their behaviours (i.e., to eat healthy foods and exercise). A study from the
University of Waterloo suggests that thinking positively about the self can
promote healthy weight loss. In the first part of the study, participants
wrote about either self-defining values that made them feel positively
about themselves (e.g., friendships, religious beliefs, relationships) or

about other values. At a follow-up session two-and-a-half months later,
the self-defined value group weighed less, had lower body mass indices,
and had smaller waistlines (Logel & Cohen, 2012). It is likely that the
positive emotion manipulation reduced the participants’ stress regarding
dieting. Given that stress leads to an increase in the number of calories

consumed (see Module 11.1 ), reducing stress could lead to a reduction
in the amount of food consumed. Researchers at Wilfrid Laurier
University found that mindfulness is positively related to healthy eating
habits. In other words, people who are tuned into their current emotional
and physiological states are more likely to make healthier food choices
(Jordan et al., 2014).
Of course, losing weight is only half the battle; we also have to maintain
that weight loss. There are a number of challenges involved with this.
First, obese individuals pay more attention to food cues (Polivy et al.,
2008) and find them more rewarding than non-obese people (Stice et al.,
2008). Additionally, the drive to eat and the perceived value of food
increase as more time passes since the last meal (Raynor & Epstein,
2003); this makes it difficult to remove snacks from your routine. Several
studies have shown that girls and adolescents who attempt to diet are
heavier later in life (Field et al., 2003; Stice et al., 2005). The restraint
involved in dieting—especially avoiding certain highly reinforcing foods—
may actually make the foods even more reinforcing in the long run. All of
these factors help explain why obesity is such a difficult condition to

overcome—it’s not simply a matter of losing a few pounds.
Psychosocial Influences on Health
The environments where we work, live, and play and the people with
whom we interact influence both our physical and mental health. This
fact seems fairly obvious, but its importance is sometimes overlooked.
Think about the neighbourhoods in your city. Some are wealthy; others
are economically disadvantaged. Some are safe; others have higher crime
rates. Consider the experiences that children would have growing up in
each of these neighbourhoods. How would their lives differ? And how
would these experiences affect their well-being?

Poverty and Discrimination
Health and wealth increase together. People who live in affluent
communities not only enjoy better access to health care, but also have a
greater sense of control over their environments and have the resources
needed to maintain a lifestyle of their choosing. Individuals who lack this
sense of control live in circumstances that can compromise their health.

People who experience poverty, discrimination, and other social stressors
have higher incidences of depression, anxiety, and other mental health
problems (Tracy et al., 2008).
People who are of low socioeconomic status are at increased risk for poor
health. Numerous factors, including stress, poor nutrition, discrimination,
and limited access to health care, collectively place children growing up
in these communities at greater risk for developing health problems.
BrandyTaylor/E+/Getty Images
Furthermore, health problems are magnified by stress. Heart disease is
prevalent in socioeconomically disadvantaged populations, and children
who experience adverse socioeconomic circumstances (e.g., fewer than
12 years of education or living in a low-income household) are at greater
risk for developing heart disease in adulthood (Fiscella et al., 2009;
Galobardes et al., 2006). This relationship likely reflects the compound
effects of stress, as well as the poorer diet that is often found among
individuals residing in communities of low socioeconomic status.
Discrimination is another stressor that can compromise both physical and

mental health. This kind of stressor is particularly problematic because it
is often uncontrollable and unpredictable. Being a target of prejudice and
discrimination is linked to increased blood pressure, heart rate, and
secretions of stress hormones, which when experienced over long periods
of time compromise physical health (Busse et al., 2017). For example,
when people perceive that they are the targets of racism, their blood
pressure remains elevated throughout the day and it recovers poorly
during sleep (Brondolo et al., 2008a, 2008b; Steffen et al., 2003).
Discrimination also puts people at greater risk for engaging in unhealthy

behaviours such as smoking and substance abuse (Bennett et al., 2005;
Carliner et al., 2016). Finally, discrimination, or even the perception of

discrimination, can put the body on sustained alert against threats. The
stress response that this state elicits can have negative, long-term effects
on physical health, as you will read in Module 14.2 .
Family and Social Environment
Our close, interpersonal relationships have a major impact on health and
life satisfaction (Elgar et al., 2011). In fact, chronic social isolation is as
great a mortality risk as smoking, obesity, and high blood pressure
(Cacioppo & Cacioppo, 2014). Social resilience , the ability to keep
positive relationships and to endure and recover from social isolation and life
stressors, can protect individuals from negative health consequences of
loneliness and social isolation (Cacioppo et al., 2011).
Marriage is typically the primary social relationship that people establish,
and it has been shown to have long-term health benefits. Married people
tend to live longer and have better mental and physical health than do
nonmarried adults. Married couples enjoy the benefits of social support
and combined resources, and they tend to have better health habits.
This is good news for married couples, but are both members of a
heterosexual marriage benefiting equally from their union? It turns out
that men enjoy greater health benefits from marriage. Unmarried women
are 50% more likely to die from heart disease, several forms of cancer,
cirrhosis of the liver, and other preventable diseases than are married
women; this effect of marriage is even higher in men, with unmarried
men being 250% more likely to die from these causes (Berkman &
Breslow, 1983; Ross et al., 1990). Several possible reasons for this
disparity in the health benefits gained from marriage have been

suggested. One likely contributor is the greater role that women take in
recognizing and supporting healthy behaviours in others.
It should be noted that heterosexual marriages are not the only form of
relationship. Currently, there are relatively little data about the health
benefits of homosexual marriages. The studies that do exist indicate that
legally recognized marriages (like we have in Canada) provide similar
benefits as found for heterosexual couples (Goldsen et al., 2017; Riggle et
al., 2010; Wight et al., 2013). As more countries and U.S. states legalize
these marriages, it will be possible to investigate whether both partners

benefit equally or if, like heterosexual marriages, one partner appears to
gain more health benefits than the other. For now, we can conclude that
at least part of the health benefit stems from the fact that legalization of
marriage for homosexual couples improves access to health insurance (in
the United States) and primary care (Carpenter et al., 2018).
Of course, marriage can also be a considerable source of stress. Marital
problems are among the most stressful experiences that people can have.
Married couples who are experiencing ongoing problems with their

relationship tend to experience more depression and greater incidences
of physical illness than happily married couples (Kiecolt-Glaser &

Newton, 2001). Marital problems and divorce may affect the emotional
health of some, though certainly not all, children. For example,

adolescents of divorced parents are at a slightly higher risk of engaging in
delinquent behaviours (Amato, 2001). While divorce can negatively affect

the health of children, parents who continue engaging in high-quality
parenting during marital discord protect children from many of the

negative effects on health attributable to divorce (Hetherington et al.,
1998).
Social Contagion
Families are not the only interpersonal influence on how we think and
act. The social group(s) that we belong to can also have a large effect on
our health-related behaviours. Social scientists have found that unhealthy
behaviours such as smoking or having a poor diet spread throughout a
person’s social group. You have likely observed this phenomenon in

action—if one or two people in a group of friends start to eat a lot of junk
food, it is easy for the others in the group to pick up this habit as well.
These changes can work in either direction, positively or negatively. Just
as social-group influence can lead to smoking, it can also lead to training
for a half-marathon.
Social contagion in the dorms: Your roommate may influence your GPA
more than you know—for better or for worse. At Dartmouth College in
the United States, students are randomly assigned to their dorm rooms
rather than matched on various characteristics, as is customary at many
schools. This practice makes Dartmouth’s roommate pairs a diverse
mixture. Professor Bruce Sacerdote (2001) found that GPA levels are
influenced by a person’s roommate. Students with high GPAs elevate the
GPAs of their lower-scoring roommates, and vice versa.
James Woodson/DigitalVision/Getty Images
These phenomena are examples of social contagion , the often subtle,
unintentional spreading of a behaviour as a result of social interactions. Social

contagion of body weight, smoking, and other health-related behaviours
has been documented in the Framingham Heart Study. The U.S. National
Heart Institute began this ongoing study in 1948 to track 15 000 residents
of Framingham, Massachusetts. Participants made regular visits to their
doctors, who recorded important health statistics such as heart rate, body
weight, and other standard physical measures. Scientists working with
the Framingham data noticed that over time, clusters of people from this
study group became increasingly similar in certain characteristics—such

as body weight increases or decreases, starting or quitting smoking, and
even levels of happiness (Christakis & Fowler, 2007, 2008; but see Lyons,
2011). It turns out that the groups who showed similar patterns in their
health statistics were also friends with one another. This work may
demonstrate the power of social factors on behaviour. Of course, this
research doesn’t only mean that you should be wary of your friends and
their unhealthy behaviours. It also shows that through social contagion,
you can be a positive force in the lives of the people around you.
#Psych
Social Media and Your Health
The internet, and social media in particular, is a primary means
through which people obtain information about health and

health-related products. While some of this information is
backed by good science (Cole et al., 2016), much of it ranges

from being outright false (e.g., that vaccines cause autism) to
having shreds of truth. For example, recently around 200 000
people discontinued taking highly effective statin medications

for cardiovascular health because they read popular press
reports of two scientific studies claiming that the drugs cause

major adverse side effects. All drugs have potential side
effects, and it turns out the authors of the studies were not
careful in how they interpreted cause (taking the drugs) and
effect (harmful reaction to the drug; Matthews et al., 2016).
Overstating cause-and-effect relationships is common in
popular reports of scientific studies, including those involving

our health. A correlation revealing a relationship between
eating organic produce and having good physical health all too
easily gets interpreted as causal (e.g., eating organic food
makes you healthier). Numerous other variables, having nothing

to do with organic food, may explain good physical health.
People who choose to pay for organic food may just be more
health conscious, have higher income, exercise more, and, in

the United States, have quality health insurance. Here lies one
of the greatest problems with using social media for health and
medical advice. Haber and colleagues (2018) examined 50
health-related articles shared on Facebook and Twitter and

found that about half of them overinterpreted or incorrectly
interpreted the cause-and-effect relationships from scientific

studies. Over half of the social media articles analyzed were
inaccurate about details from the research questions and

results. What is the take-home message here? By the time
research findings go from the laboratory to social media
channels, the science can get highly misconstrued. Taking

good care of your health involves awareness of this fact.
Module 14.1 Summary
14.1a Know . . . the key terminology related to health

psychology.
Review Module 14.1
14.1b Understand . . . how genetic and environmental factors

influence obesity.
Some research suggests that genetics influences our set point, a weight
(or range of weights) that our body tends to maintain; however, weight is
influenced by several other factors as well. Environmental influences on
weight gain are abundant. Cultural, family, and socioeconomic factors
influence activity levels and diet, even in very subtle ways, such as
through social contagion.
14.1c Apply . . . your beliefs about obesity to better understand

sources of prejudice and stereotyping.
Apply Activity
Stereotypes and prejudicial attitudes are commonly directed at people
who are overweight or obese. Bacon and colleagues (2001) created a fat
phobia scale as a metric for measuring thoughts about people who are
obese. You can complete their brief scale below. For each adjective,
identify which number best represents your feelings and beliefs about
people who are obese. After you have done this for each item, total up
the numbers and divide by 14.
If you wish, compare your number to a large-scale study conducted by the
researchers who designed the survey (Bacon et al., 2001). Scores range
from 1 to 5, with 5 indicating the highest levels of negative attitudes

toward fat people. The average score in their study was 3.6. Considering
your own beliefs and thoughts about people who are overweight or obese
can be an important step toward reducing prejudicial attitudes toward
others, and toward recognizing negative stereotypes expressed by others.

As you have read in this module, there are numerous biological,
sociocultural, and economic factors that influence a person’s body weight.
14.1d Analyze . . . whether media depictions of smoking affect

smoking in adolescents.
Correlational trends certainly show that smoking in popular movies is

positively correlated with smoking among adolescents (e.g., increased
exposure is related to increased incidence of smoking). Controlled

laboratory studies suggest a cause-and-effect relationship exists between
identification with story protagonists who smoke and smoking behaviour

by young viewers.
Module 14.2 Stress and Illness
Imagesource/Glow Images
14.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with stress and illness.
14.2b Understand . . . the physiological reactions that occur under
stress.
14.2c Understand . . . how the immune system is connected to stress
responses.
14.2d Apply . . . a measure of stressful events to your own experiences.
14.2e Analyze . . . the claim that ulcers are caused by stress.
The frustration and embarrassment of choking under pressure is

undeniable. Whether the stakes are a championship title or admission
to an elite university, a sudden, inexplicable shift to subpar
performance can be devastating. According to psychologist Sian
Beilock, the culprit in such a case may be the negative effects that stress
has on working memory—the short-term capacity to hold and
manipulate information. Calculating a 15% tip for a bill of $43.84 at a
restaurant, or while the pizza delivery person waits, requires working
memory processes. The pressure of your date watching you or the pizza
delivery person looking on impatiently may result in your appearing

either foolishly generous or just plain cheap.
Beilock has conducted experiments on how stress affects the cognitive

resources needed for problem solving. For example, in one study,
research volunteers were asked to solve math problems. Some were told
that if they solved the problems correctly, they would earn money for
themselves as well as for a partner they were paired with; if they did not
perform well, both the volunteer and the partner would lose money.
Beilock and her colleagues have found that this type of pressure draws
resources away from the working memory processes needed for success
(Beilock, 2008, 2010). Stressful thoughts readily occupy working

memory space and cause the unfortunate experience of choking under
pressure. This fact may contribute to findings from an analysis of 1930

NBA playoff games showing that facing elimination does not lead to
elevated performance (Morgulev & Galily, 2018). Even highly skilled
professionals choke under pressure.
Imagine a student near the end of the semester with several papers due
and final exams looming. Now imagine someone who has worked at the
same job for 25 years being told that he needs to learn a new computer
system or he will be laid off. Or think about a soccer player in a

championship game that will be decided by penalty kicks; she walks up to
place the ball on the penalty spot, knowing that if she misses her team
will lose. If you were asked to find one word that connected all of these
scenarios, what word would that be? For most people, that word would
be stress. Stress  is a psychological and physiological reaction that occurs
when perceived demands exceed existing resources to meet those demands.

Stress refers to both events (stressors) and experiences in response to
these events (the stress response). Stressors can take a wide variety of
forms, such as acute events (giving a speech, experiencing an assault,

getting in a car accident) and chronic events (illness, marital problems,
job-related challenges). The effects these stressors have on performance

can be positive or negative.
What Causes Stress?
Have you noticed how some people seem overwhelmed by stressful

events while others seem calm and focused? These differences are not a
figment of your imagination—people do differ in their responses to stress.
To attempt to explain why and how people differ, psychologists Richard
Lazarus and Susan Folkman developed a cognitive appraisal theory of

stress (Lazarus & Folkman, 1984). Here, the term appraisal  refers to the
cognitive act of assessing and evaluating the potential threat and demands of an
event. These appraisals occur in two steps (see Figure 14.3 ). First, the
individual perceives a potential threat and begins the primary appraisal by
asking, “Is this a threat?” Threats can be physical (e.g., someone trying to
harm you) or psychosocial (e.g., trying to study for two exams on the
same day or trying to deal with interpersonal conflicts). If the answer is
no, then they will not experience any stress. But if the answer is yes, they
will experience a physiological stress reaction (perhaps a racing heart
beat and sweaty palms) as well as an emotional reaction (perhaps anxiety
and fear). As these events unfold, the secondary appraisal begins—they
must determine how to cope with the threat. During the secondary
appraisal, they may determine that they know how to cope with the
stressor (e.g., studying for the exams over the course of several days). In
this case, they will not feel much stress. However, if they believe that the
stressor goes beyond their ability to cope, the physiological and
emotional reactions to the stress will continue.
Figure 14.3 The Cognitive Appraisal Theory of Stress

The cognitive appraisal theory of stress involves two steps: (1) an
evaluation of whether a stimulus or event is a threat, and (2) whether you
have the resources to cope with that threat.
Although the causes of stress can vary from person to person, there are
some patterns that tend to emerge. In the workplace, Canadians

experience stress due to long hours, high work demands, safety concerns,
and interpersonal relationships (Crompton, 2011). Life changes such as

marital difficulties, the birth of a child, or the death of a family member
are also a major source of stress. Psychologists have actually ranked
stressful events according to their magnitude, as can be seen in the Social

Readjustment Rating Scale (SRRS) in Table 14.2  (Holmes & Rahe,
1967). The highest-stress events include death of a spouse and divorce,
while holidays and traffic tickets occupy the lower end of the spectrum.
According to the psychologists who developed this scale, as the points in
the left column of Table 14.2  accumulate, a person’s risk for becoming
ill increases. For example, 300 or more points put people at significant
risk for developing heart problems, illnesses, and infections.
Table 14.2
Life Stress Inventories for the General Adult Population and for University Students
Source: Based on Holmes, T. H. & Rahe, R. H. (1967). The social readjustment rating
scale. Journal of Psychosomatic Research, 11(2), 213–221.
Of course, the stresses that a young adult experiences are almost certainly
different from the stresses that are experienced by their parents or
grandparents. Although students can have all of the stresses listed in the
right-hand column of Table 14.2 , it is more likely that students will deal
with issues related to school work, a lack of money, and all of the social
excitement (and drama) associated with their late teens and early 20s.
Many Canadian students also deal with the challenges associated with
immigration—balancing the family’s traditions with the desire to embrace
Canadian culture (Safdar & Lay, 2003).
Stress and Performance
At this point in the module, it would appear as though stress were always
a bad thing. However, some level of stress can actually be helpful—
without it, the motivation to perform can decline. In 1908, Robert Yerkes
and John Dodson theorized that too little or too much stress or emotional
arousal would both lead to sub-optimal performance. Individuals would

be at their best when under a moderate amount of stress. This
relationship is depicted in Figure 14.4 .
Figure 14.4 Arousal and Performance

Performance is related to at least two critical factors—the difficulty of the
task and the level of arousal/stress while it is being performed. For easy
tasks, moderately high arousal helps; for difficult tasks, lower levels of
arousal are optimal.
Source: Ciccarelli, S., & Noland White, J. (2012). Psychology (3rd ed.). Boston: Prentice Hall. p. 39.
Copyright © 2012. Printed and electronically reproduced by permission of Pearson Education,
Inc., Upper Saddle River, New Jersey.
Later research found that the link between stress and performance could
vary with the task being performed. Researchers noted that stress has
positive effects on performance when the tasks being completed are
relatively simple (see Figure 14.4 ). In this case, even if the stress
consumes the person’s cognitive resources, it will still be possible to
complete the task. However, if a task is complex, stress will harm
performance. This is because stress uses up many of our cognitive
resources. A stressed-out person may find that they do not have the
mental resources available to perform at the level they would be capable
of if they were not experiencing stress.
Importantly, the stress levels associated with these graphs are not the
same for everyone. Some people seem to thrive under intense stress
while others do not. It appears that almost everyone has an individual
zone of optimal functioning (IZOF) , a range of emotional intensity in

which he or she is most likely to perform at his or her best (Hanin, 2000;
Kamata et al., 2002). Sports psychologists have found that if an athlete is

too anxious and stressed out—or not stressed out enough—they will not
perform at an optimal level. Critically, many elite athletes are able to
compare their current emotional state with the level of stress they had
experienced prior to good performances; they can then attempt to adjust
their current state to more closely match their optimal one (Jokela &
Hanin, 1999).
The data described in this section leads to an obvious question: How does
a physiological response—stress—affect our mental life and cognitive
abilities? In the next section of this module, we will examine how your
brain and body can produce the feelings and sensations associated with the
experience of stress.
Physiology of Stress
Think about the last time you experienced stress. How did you feel?
Although stress depends upon our mental appraisal of a situation or
event, the physiological response to stress occurs throughout most of the
body. Indeed, you can literally feel yourself react to acute stressors, such
as giving a presentation in class, as well as chronic stressors, such as the

cumulative effect of a challenging school year. Walter Cannon (1929), an
early researcher into the phenomenon of stress, noted that the physical
responses to stressors were somewhat general, despite the fact that stress
can come from a variety of sources that may be biological, cognitive, or
social in nature. Cannon described this general reaction as a fight-or-
flight response , a set of physiological changes that occur in response to

psychological or physical threats. This discovery laid the foundation for the
modern study of stress, with several researchers building upon Cannon’s
pioneering work.
Watch Basics: Stress and Health

Hans Selye (1950, 1956) of the Université de Montréal looked beyond the
immediate fight-or-flight response and saw the unfolding of a larger
pattern during responses to stress. He named this pattern the general
adaptation syndrome (GAS) , a theory of stress responses involving stages
of alarm, resistance, and exhaustion (see Figure 14.5 ). As GAS illustrates,
a stressful event, such as a mild shock if you are a rat or a pop quiz (or a
mild shock) if you are a university student, first elicits an alarm reaction.
Alarm consists of your recognition of the threat and the physiological
reactions that accompany it, including increases in blood pressure,

muscle tension, heart rate, and adrenaline release. As the stressful event
continues, the individual enters the second part of this adaptive response,
known as resistance. Resistance is characterized by an individual using
their physical and mental resources to respond to the stressor in an
appropriate way (e.g., furiously studying for a quiz or running away from
predators). However, an animal (or student) can’t maintain this level of

energy use forever. The third and final stage of the GAS is often referred
to as exhaustion; this occurs when the stressful experience depletes your

physical resources and your physiological stress response, and thus your
ability to cope, declines.
Figure 14.5 The General Adaptation Syndrome

How we respond to stress varies over time. After the initial shock
associated with the stressor (see the dip in resistance early in the Alarm
phase), the body recruits resources to allow it to deal with the stressful
situation or event. This ability to cope with the stressor peaks in the
Resistance phase of the GAS. However, if the individual doesn’t
overcome the stressor, eventually they will be unable to resist the stress;
this final phase is known as the Exhaustion phase.
Source: Based on Selye, H. (1950). Stress and the general adaptation syndrome. British Medical
Journal, 1385–1392.
Since the work of Cannon and Selye, psychologists have further

uncovered the highly complex physiological interactions that occur
during and after stress. Modern descriptions of the physiology of stress

involve both the autonomic nervous system (ANS) and endocrine
(hormone) responses.
The Stress Pathways
Sweaty palms, an increased heart rate, and gastrointestinal sensations
(i.e., “butterflies in the stomach”) are part of stress responses to both
positive and negative events. Many of these bodily responses are the
result of activity in the autonomic pathway, which originates in the brain
and extends to the body where you feel stress the most. Recall from
Module 3.3  that the nervous system consists of the central nervous
system (brain and spinal cord) and the peripheral nervous system, which
includes the ANS. In response to stress, the hypothalamus stimulates part
of the ANS known as the sympathetic nervous system, which then causes
the inner part of the adrenal glands known as the adrenal medulla (found
on top of the kidneys) to release epinephrine and norepinephrine (also
known as adrenaline and nonadrenaline). These chemicals then trigger
the bodily changes associated with the fight-or-flight response (see Figure
14.6 ).
Figure 14.6 Stress Pathways of the Body

The stress pathways of the body include the autonomic nervous system
and the HPA axis. Both systems converge on the adrenal glands. The
autonomic response involves stimulation of the adrenal medulla by the
sympathetic nervous system, resulting in the release of epinephrine and
norepinephrine—chemicals that stimulate the fight-or-flight response.
Activity of the HPA axis results in stimulation of the adrenal cortex,
which releases cortisol into the bloodstream.
Another physiological system involved in the stress response is the

hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal (HPA) axis , a neural and endocrine
circuit that provides communication between the nervous system (the
hypothalamus) and the endocrine system (pituitary and adrenal glands). When
you perceive that you are in a stressful situation, the hypothalamus and
pituitary gland work together to stimulate the release of cortisol , a

hormone secreted by the adrenal cortex (the outer part of the adrenal gland) that
prepares the body to respond to stressful circumstances. Cortisol may

stimulate increased access to energy stores or lead to decreased
inflammation. In summary, both the sympathetic nervous system

(through the release of epinephrine and norepinephrine) and the HPA
axis (through the release of cortisol) function to prepare us to respond to
stress.
With rare medical exceptions, humans mount both autonomic and HPA
axis responses to stress. These responses are highly adaptive and
promote behaviours that help our survival (e.g., being more vigilant or
running extra fast). However, as you will see, not everyone responds to
these stress responses in the same way.
Watch The HPA Axis

Oxytocin: To Tend and Befriend
One observation you have likely made is that males and females often
respond to stress and threat in different ways. Although many of these
differences are a product of societal expectations (e.g., men are typically
expected to hide their stress), there are in fact some differences in the
HPA axis of males and females. Numerous experiments have found that
males have a larger cortisol response to stress than females. This
difference occurs for both real-world stressors such as exams and
laboratory-based stressors such as having to give a speech (Kudielka &
Kirschbaum, 2005). As a result, males tend to respond to threats with a
rapid expenditure of energy (fight or flight).
Shelley Taylor and her colleagues at UCLA have suggested that whereas
men are more likely to react to stress or threats with a fight-or-flight
response, women are more likely to have a more social tend-and-befriend
response (Taylor et al., 2000; Taylor, 2006). This view makes sense if you
think about the history of our species. Over the course of our species’
evolution, females have had to care for dependent and vulnerable
children. Running away from a stressful situation would have required
abandoning offspring; getting into a fight risked the possibility of death or
injury. Both of these responses would have reduced the likelihood that
their offspring would have survived. Instead, it made more sense to seek
out stable friendship networks for support during times of stress. Doing
so provided comfort, but also the potential for additional resources to
help with offspring. This is not to say that women don’t have any
instinctive fight-or-flight response or that men have no need to tend and
befriend; rather, these researchers are suggesting that there are sex
differences in which response is more likely to occur.
According to the tend-and-befriend theory, females often respond to

stress by seeking out social support networks. Although there are
physiological explanations for sex differences in stress responses, we
should also remember that cognitive and social factors also influence
these behaviours.
Photographee.eu/Shutterstock
The tend-and-befriend reaction may be promoted by the release of
oxytocin , a stress-sensitive hormone that is typically associated with

maternal bonding and social relationships. Oxytocin influences a number of
behaviours, including the contraction of the uterus when a woman is in
labour, romantic attachment, social bonding, trust, wound healing, and

orgasm (although not all at the same time; Caldwell & Young III, 2006;
Lee et al., 2009). Although oxytocin is clearly involved in a number of

behaviours, its role in stress is particularly important. Animal studies
have shown that stimulating the release of oxytocin reduces activity in the
sympathetic nervous system (one of the parts of the stress network) and
blood pressure (Carter, 1998). In humans, women who are breastfeeding
and thus have high levels of oxytocin show lower stress responses to
physical and psychological stress (Light et al., 2000). Similar findings
were reported in men who were given doses of oxytocin (Heinrichs et al.,
2003). And, most relevant to the tend-and-befriend hypothesis, women
who receive more frequent hugs from their romantic partners also had
higher oxytocin levels and lower stress responses (Light et al., 2005).
That’s something to think about when studying for exams.
Hormones, Relationships, and Health
Social relationships can be a major source of both positive and
negative stress, and they can provide a great deal of support

during our most stressful times. Given the links between stress
and health, it seems reasonable to ask: How do our personal
relationships relate to health?
What do we know about hormones,

relationships, and health?
Many family events and relationships can be stressful. Almost
everyone has argued with their parents or siblings. Holidays and
weddings can be fun, but they also involve a lot of planning and,
at times, “intense discussion.” Sometimes relationships—

particularly with close friends or romantic partners—become very
difficult and tense, and may even lead to chronic stress responses
that adversely affect a person’s health. However, other
relationships can be quite fulfilling, and can lead to strong social

bonds that last a lifetime. These positive relationships have been
linked to specific hormonal responses in the body.
Two hormones, oxytocin and vasopressin, are involved in social
behaviour and bonding. We previously discussed the role of

oxytocin in moderating stress responses, particularly in females.
Oxytocin has been shown to inhibit activity in the amygdala, a

brain region involved with fear and threat responses (Radke et
al., 2017). It may also prevent the release of cortisol (Heinrichs et
al., 2003). Vasopressin also has stress-reducing functions. Like
oxytocin, the release of vasopressin is controlled by the
hypothalamus and pituitary gland, and affects the levels of stress
hormones released by the adrenal gland (Goland et al., 1991).
People with high vasopressin levels tend to report better
relationship quality with their spouses (Walum et al., 2008).
However, oxytocin and vasopressin have health functions that go
beyond improving social bonds. Both of these hormones interact

with the immune system, specifically to reduce inflammation (Li
et al., 2017).
How can science explain connections

between hormones, relationships, and health?
A common, if not surprising, method for measuring immunity
and health is to see how quickly people recover from a minor
wound. In one study, the effect of marital stress on wound
healing was tested in a group of 37 married couples (Gouin et al.,
2010). Each couple was asked to sit together with no other
couples or researchers present and complete a series of marital

interaction tasks, including a discussion of the history of their
marriage and a task in which both spouses were instructed to
discuss something they wished to change about themselves.

These interactions were videotaped. The researchers also took
blood samples to measure oxytocin and vasopressin levels.

Additionally, each participant consented to receiving a suction
blister on the forearm, which is a very minor wound created with

a medical vacuum pump. It’s like a hickey—but a hickey for
science.
During the marital interaction tasks, those who engaged their
partner with positive responses including acceptance, support,

and self-disclosure had higher levels of oxytocin and vasopressin.
Those who responded with hostility, withdrawal, and distress
had lower levels (Figure 14.7 ). In addition, the suction blister
wounds healed more quickly over an eight-day period in
individuals with high oxytocin and vasopressin levels. (Suction

wounds heal to 100% within 12 days.)
Figure 14.7 Relationship Quality Is Related to Physiological Responses
Higher oxytocin and vasopressin levels are associated with

positive social interactions between married couples.
Source: Republished with permission of Elsevier Science, Inc., from Gouin, J.-P.,
Carter, C. S., Pournajafi-Nazarloo, H., Glaser, R., Malarkey, W. B., Loving, T. J., et al.
(2010). Marital behavior, oxytocin, vasopressin, and wound healing.
Psychoneuroendocrinology, 35(7):1082–1090. Permission conveyed through Copyright
Clearance Center, Inc.
In another experiment, married couples were given either an

intranasal solution of oxytocin or a placebo. They then engaged
in discussion about conflict within their marriage. Those who

received a boost of oxytocin showed more positive, constructive
behaviour during their discussion compared to couples in the

placebo group. The researchers also measured cortisol levels
from saliva samples obtained from each individual. Those in the

oxytocin group had lower levels of this stress hormone compared
to couples in the placebo group (Ditzen et al., 2009).

It might be tempting to conclude that a boost of oxytocin or
vasopressin could be the key to marital happiness, stress

reduction, and physical health. Although the studies you just read
about are related to these important qualities, it is important to
avoid oversimplifying what their results mean. Claims that

homeopathic oxytocin remedies can make anyone happier and
better at love, marriage, sex, and even “mind reading” should be
looked at with skepticism. Advertisements for such products are
not hard to find. However, scientists are still in the relatively
early stages of learning just how oxytocin and vasopressin affect

social behaviour in humans, and how they are related to immune
system function (Gouin et al., 2010; Macdonald & Macdonald,
2010). For example, researchers have found that high oxytocin
levels are also present in people who are experiencing

relationship distress, which is in direct contrast to the studies
previously discussed (Grebe et al., 2017). Related to this, the
tend-and-befriend hypothesis predicts high oxytocin levels in
people experiencing relationship distress, and the increased
oxytocin can fuel the motivation to find positive social encounters

outside of the ditressed relationship (Taylor, 2006).

Although these studies were conducted with married couples, the
physiological and physical healing benefits of close, positive
social relationships extend to romantic relationships, friendships,
and family. Procedures for healing physical injury currently focus
on repair to damaged areas and preventing infection from setting

in. In addition to these critical steps, it appears that managing
psychological stress is also important for facilitating recovery
from injury (Gouin & Kiecolt-Glaser, 2011). Exposure to high
levels of adversity or trauma early in life, particularly among
females, results in genetic modifications that inhibit the brain’s

ability to use oxytocin (Gouin et al., 2017). This can in turn
increase people’s susceptibility to physical and mental illness. As
we shall see in the next section of this module, stress can also
affect a number of other aspects of our physical health.
Stress, Immunity, and Illness
You have likely had the experience of getting sick in the midst of a period
of high stress. You are not alone; dozens of experimental and
correlational studies have shown, for example, that stress increases the
likelihood that people will succumb to the cold virus (Cohen et al., 1998).
In fact, one study suggests that final exams—an obvious stressor for
students—may be bad for you. In this investigation, medical students
provided blood samples during the term and again during the final exam
period. Analysis of these blood samples showed reduced immune
responses during the high-stress period at the end of the term (Kiecolt-
Glaser, 1984). There is a reason this happens: the immune system, which
is responsible for protecting the body against infectious disease, has

numerous connections with the nervous system, including the stress
response systems just discussed (Maier & Watkins, 1998; Selye, 1955).
Psychoneuroimmunology  is the study of this relationship between immune
system and nervous system functioning.
Psychologists are finding that the stress–illness relationship is a very
complex one, involving numerous physiological systems. These
investigations are made even more challenging by the fact that the effects
of mental stress on physical functioning are diverse. Recall that stress can
come in a variety of forms—at the very least, we can divide it into acute
and chronic variations. It appears that stress also has dual influences on
immunity. Acute stressors tend to activate the immune system, whereas

chronic exposure to stress generally causes suppression of the immune
system (Segerstrom & Miller, 2004).

Stress, Personality, and Heart Disease
In addition to making people more prone to catching viruses, high stress
levels appear to put people at greater risk for developing coronary heart
disease —a condition in which plaques form in the blood vessels that supply
the heart with blood and oxygen, resulting in restricted blood flow. For
example, one study followed 12 000 healthy males for a nine-year period
and found that men who experienced ongoing stress with their families or
at work were 30% more likely to die from coronary heart disease than
were men who were not chronically stressed (Matthews & Gump, 2002).
Coronary heart disease begins when injury and infection damage the
arteries of the heart. This damage triggers the inflammatory response by

the immune system—white blood cells travel to affected areas in an
attempt to repair the damaged tissue. These cells gather cholesterol and
form dangerous plaques, which can rupture, break off, and block blood
flow. So how does stress fit into this picture? Stress causes an increased
release of those molecules that cause the inflammation that leads to heart
complications (Segerstrom & Miller, 2004).
It seems like the link between stress and heart disease should have a
simple solution: reduce your stress levels. However, this isn’t as
straightforward as one might think. The reason is that our stress
responses are affected by our personalities. Interestingly, this relationship
wasn’t discovered by psychologists. Rather, it was noticed by two
cardiologists—Meyer Friedman and Ray Rosenman—who were
conducting an eight-and-a-half year study of cardiovascular health. As

you might expect, they found that people who were prone to stress had
poorer physical health (Friedman & Rosenman, 1959). Importantly, a
subset of these patients also had a particular group of personality traits
that the researchers labelled as Type A. The Type A personality 
describes people who tend to be impatient and worry about time, and are easily
angered, competitive, and highly motivated. In contrast, the Type B
personality  describes people who are more laid-back and characterized by a
patient, easygoing, and relaxed disposition (Friedman & Rosenman, 1974).
These studies revealed that people who fall in the Type A category are far
more likely to have heart attacks than are Type B people.
This initial finding has been replicated many times, though the
correlation between levels of Type A characteristics and coronary heart
disease is only moderate. This less-than-strong relationship likely reflects
the fact that other factors, not just how a person copes with stress, may
further elevate the risk of coronary heart disease. People who have a Type
A personality also engage in behaviours that compromise physical health,
such as drinking large quantities of alcohol, smoking, and sleeping less
than people with a Type B personality. Thus, numerous correlated factors

may explain the relationship between Type A personality and risk of
coronary heart disease. People with Type A personalities are often

successful. However, they are also much more likely to experience heart
attacks and strokes than are more relaxed, less hostile individuals.
The distinction between Type A and B personalities has not satisfied all
behavioural scientists and physicians. Being quick to anger is a
characteristic of Type A individuals, but so is being hyper-motivated to

succeed at work. Perhaps there is something more specific about
personality that increases the risk for developing heart disease
(Strickhouser et al., 2017). More recent research has shown that people
who are prone to hostility and anger are at greater risk for developing
coronary heart disease (Razzini et al., 2008). Other personality

characteristics linked to coronary heart disease include anxiety and
depression (Barger & Sydeman, 2005; Lett et al., 2004). On the other
hand, high conscientiousness is related to better self-care, which reduces

incidences of conditions such as diabetes (Skinner et al., 2014).
Imagine you have a one-hour break between classes, during which you
need to get lunch and also visit one of your professors across campus.
When you arrive at your professor’s office, you see a line of other
students awaiting their turn, and the current occupant is blathering on
and on about something completely unrelated to schoolwork. How would
you tend to react in this situation? Would you become agitated, angry,
resentful, and fidgety? Or would you be more inclined to strike up a
conversation with others in line to help pass the time? Your answer will
likely depend on various factors—but each of us tends to have a common
style of responding to stressful events.
Christopher Futcher/E+/Getty Images
Myths in Mind
Stress and Ulcers
Many of the presumed links between stress and health are
oversimplified or misunderstood. People typically associate

ulcers—open sores in the lining of the esophagus, stomach,
and small intestine—with people working in high-stress jobs,

such as police officers or air traffic controllers. The belief that
stress causes people to develop ulcers is widespread. In
actuality, most ulcers are caused by a bacterium, Helicobacter

pylori, which can cause inflammation of the lining of various
regions of the digestive tract. This bacterium is surprisingly
common, and approximately 10% to 15% of people who are
exposed to it will develop an ulcer resulting from inflammation.
Thus, stress does not cause ulcers, although it can worsen

their symptoms. Also, smoking, alcohol, pain relievers, and a
poor diet—anything that can irritate the digestive system—
increases problems associated with ulcers.
Contrary to popular belief, chronic stress, like that experienced

by air traffic controllers, will not cause a stomach ulcer.
Photodisc/Getty Images
Stress, Food, and Drugs
Stress influences heart functioning in other, indirect, ways as well. Survey
research has consistently shown that people are drawn toward sweet and
fatty foods when they are stressed (Oliver & Wardle, 1999; Steptoe et al.,
1998). Laboratory-based studies have shown similar trends. In one
experiment, female participants were given stress-inducing tasks to

complete, including solving a visuospatial puzzle, performing math
calculations, and giving a speech in front of what they thought was an
audience seated behind a one-way mirror. The women who had the
highest levels of the stress hormone cortisol ate more sweet, high-fat
snacks than did the less-stressed women (Epel et al., 2001). The
relationship between stress and unhealthy food extends to other species
as well. Low-status females in a colony of monkeys are often bullied and
harassed by high-status females. Researchers have noted that the low-
status females ate more banana-flavoured pellets than their social
superiors (Wilson et al., 2008). Interestingly, similar results were found

when monkeys had the opportunity to self-administer cocaine; the
subordinate monkeys pressed a lever much more often than the dominant
monkeys who presumably had less stress (Morgan et al., 2002).
Obviously, overeating unhealthy food (or doing cocaine) is not a good
long-term solution to stress. So, why do some people (and monkeys) use
food and drugs to deal with stress? Although it is possible that these
substances directly affect the hormones and brain areas associated with
stress, most scientists agree that food (and drugs) influence the brain’s
dopamine reward system (see Modules 5.3 and 6.2). Some research
suggests that chronic stress suppresses the reward system (so stressed
people would find less joy in things). It is possible that eating rewarding
foods increases the activity in this system so that it is closer to normal
levels (Adam & Epel, 2007; Dallman et al., 2003). Additionally, as
discussed in Module 11.1 , people who are stressed are mobilizing the
body’s resources in case action is required; eating fatty and sugary foods
provides the body with extra calories in anticipation of the person having
to use additional energy to deal with a stressor.

Stress, the Brain, and Disease
Although stress is often linked to cardiovascular problems like heart
attacks and strokes, its negative effect on the immune system makes
stress a factor in other conditions as well. Acquired immune deficiency
syndrome (AIDS) is a disease caused by infection with the human
immunodeficiency virus (HIV). This disease saps the immune system’s

ability to fight off infections to such an extent that even conditions that
are relatively harmless to most of the population can be devastating to an
individual with AIDS. Patients in industrialized countries with more
medical options have a better prognosis than those living in impoverished
areas. Retroviral therapies have greatly increased the longevity, health,

and overall quality of life of patients. However, people who are HIV-
positive need regular vaccination treatments. Unfortunately, stress
impedes the body’s ability to respond to vaccinations. In turn, studies
have shown that those who experience serious emotional distress are less
responsive to HIV treatments. Stress-induced elevation of the

neurotransmitter norepinephrine—which is involved in emotional arousal
and stress responses—can also worsen the condition of the various
illnesses associated with AIDS. Patients who have elevated activity of the
autonomic nervous system are slower to respond to antiretroviral
therapies, which increases their risks of developing certain types of cancer
such as B-cell lymphoma (Cole et al., 1998).
Researchers are also finding numerous links between psychosocial factors
and cancer progression (Antoni & Lutgendorf, 2007). Several factors,

such as the type of cancer and an individual’s age, account for why some
people rapidly succumb to cancer while others are able to overcome this
disease. But stress levels also affect the progression of cancer. Why is
this? It appears that norepinephrine supports cancer cell growth, and that
cortisol magnifies this effect. Hormones from the autonomic nervous
system stimulate cells that reside in tumours, which ultimately results in
growth and proliferation of these masses (Antoni et al., 2006). Thus,
when someone experiences stress, the autonomic nervous system and
HPA axis naturally respond, but their reactions compromise how well the
individual can fight the disease.
For many people, stress levels can be changed and the course of a disease
such as cancer can be slowed. For example, individuals who have
undergone assertiveness training and learn anger management
techniques show reduced autonomic activity and hormonal activity
associated with the HPA axis (Antoni et al., 2007). Also, those who are
optimistic, cope by using humour, and have a positive outlook on the
disease (and thus less stress) show physiological benefits such as greater
immune responses (Lutgendorf et al., 2007). These studies show us that

how we mentally react to the stressors in our lives can dramatically
influence how our body responds to serious illness. In the next module,
we will discuss how you can draw from psychology research to improve
your ability to cope with stress. Doing so will make you happier—and
healthier.
Module 14.2 Summary
14.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with stress and

illness.
Review Module 14.2
14.2b Understand . . . the physiological reactions that occur

under stress.
When a person encounters a stressor, the hypothalamus stimulates the
sympathetic nervous system to act, triggering the release of epinephrine

and norepinephrine from the adrenal medulla. This reaction is often
referred to as the fight-or-flight response. Another part of the stress
response system is the HPA axis, in which the hypothalamus stimulates
the pituitary gland to release hormones that in turn stimulate the adrenal
cortex to release cortisol, which prepares the body to deal with stressful
situations.
14.2c Understand . . . how the immune system is connected to

stress responses.
Chronic release of cortisol suppresses the immune system, leaving people
more vulnerable to illness and slowing recovery time from illness and
injury.
14.2d Apply . . . a measure of stressful events to your own

experiences.
Apply Activity
To complete this activity, look at Table 14.2 . Using the values next to
each stressful event listed, add up the numbers that apply to your
experiences and compute your total stress score. Holmes and Rahe (1967)
found that a score of 300 or more puts people at significant risk for illness,
while a score of 150 to 299 puts people at a moderate risk.
Years later, Renner and Mackin (1998) developed a similar scale for
college and university students based on data gathered from a sample of

257 undergraduate students (range: 17–45 years; mean: 19.75 years). Do
an internet search for Renner and Mackin’s College Undergraduate Stress

Scale and calculate your own stress score. They reported an average
stress score of 1247 (standard deviation: 441), with scores ranging from
182 to 2571. How do you compare with their sample?
14.2e Analyze . . . the claim that ulcers are caused by stress.
Ulcers are damaged areas of the digestive tract often caused by infection
with the bacterium Helicobacter pylori. Stress and other factors, such as
diet and alcohol consumption, can worsen the condition of ulcers, but
stress alone does not cause them.
Module 14.3 Coping and Well-Being
John Lund/Stephanie Roeser/Glow Images
14.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with coping and well-
being.
14.3b Understand . . . how control over the environment influences
coping and outlook.
14.3c Understand . . . positive and negative styles of coping.
14.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of the beneficial effects of optimism
to help you reframe stressful situations as positive opportunities.
14.3e Analyze . . . whether activities such as relaxation techniques and
meditation actually help people cope with stress and problems.
What is the best way to cope with a personal disaster, such as losing
your job? Writing about how the event makes you feel may not seem like
a priority, but according to psychologist James Pennebaker, it may be
one of the best strategies for coping and regaining the emotional
resources needed to move on. Pennebaker, a leading researcher on the
psychological benefits of writing, decided to intervene when a local
computing and electronics firm laid off 60 professional workers. All he
asked the workers to do was to write, but their instructions on how to
write were different: Half the volunteers were randomly assigned to

write about their “deepest thoughts and feelings surrounding the job
loss, and how their lives, both personal and professional, had been
affected” (Spera et al., 1994, p. 725). In contrast, the control group
members were told to write about their plans for the day and how they
planned to find another job, which is much less personal and
emotional. After a month of weekly 20-minute writing sessions, the

group members who were writing about their emotions were getting
hired much more frequently than the control group members. The
participants were randomly assigned to the two groups, so the

differences between the groups can be traced to the writing rather than
to pre-existing personality differences. Similar methods have been used

in Pennebaker’s studies of first-year university students, people
grieving the loss of a loved one, and other groups experiencing stressful
transitions. The result was the same each time—group members who
wrote meaningful narratives of their emotions and thoughts came out
ahead, not just in terms of mental health, but also physically and in
their performance at work or school.
This module is designed to help you. In it, you will read about some
widely used solutions for coping with stress and behavioural methods
that may potentially help in improving health. We will also discuss some
topics that might be less familiar, but may prove useful in how you cope
with stress and negative events. Finally, we will discuss how stress and
successful coping are closely related to your sense of control.
Coping
Although understanding how stress works—both physically and mentally

—is important, it is the ability to cope with that stress that will dictate
whether or not you are happy. Coping  refers to the processes used to
manage demands, stress, and conflict. Coping strategies can include
problem-focused coping and emotion-focused coping. Some of us approach a

problem or stressor, such as large monetary debt or a setback at work, by
taking a problem-solving approach. In other words, we cope by defining
the problem and working toward a solution. If you are stressed out by
school demands, you could address the problem by setting up a study
schedule, dropping a course, or finding a tutor, among many other
possible solutions. However, there are times when it is more important to

focus on the emotional effects of a stressor than on attempting to find an
immediate solution to a problem—in fact, not all stressors are brought
about by problems that have identifiable solutions. For example, imagine
that your beloved family pet has passed away. In such a situation, you
obviously cannot make a list to deal with your grief; however, you can
find ways to reduce the negative effects your emotions are having, both
on yourself and on others. Neither of these styles of coping is necessarily
superior to the other—their suitability depends on the nature of the

problem (Folkman & Lazarus, 1980). In many instances, both problem-
focused coping and emotion-focused coping are used to deal with a
stressor.
Of course, not all coping techniques actually help; some may simply
replace one problem with another. For example, some people turn to
alcohol or drugs to temporarily avoid feelings of stress, and some turn to
food. Unfortunately, sitting in front of the television and eating a litre of
Häagen-Dazs ice cream from the container is not a healthy method of
coping. In this section, we will examine both the positive and negative
methods of coping, and then describe several techniques that can be used
to improve your well-being.

Positive Coping Strategies
Psychology may have a reputation for focusing on the negative, including
how damaging stress can be. In reality, psychologists also study what
makes people thrive, even in the face of extreme stress. This area of
study, positive psychology , uses scientific methods to study human
strengths and potential. Research in this area has identified numerous

adaptive and constructive ways in which people cope with problems.
These researchers have found that one of the most powerful tools for
coping is also one of the simplest: focusing on positive emotions.
Although it may seem difficult to imagine experiencing positive emotions

during times of stress, doing something simple like watching a funny
movie can actually help you cope with stress and negative life
experiences. Barbara Fredrickson and her colleagues at the University of
North Carolina (Chapel Hill) have shown that positive emotions can
affect how we perceive and think about the world. For example, these
researchers have shown that a negative mood narrows your focus of
attention so that you attend to a small part of your environment, whereas
positive moods cause the focus of your attention to expand (Fredrickson
& Branigan, 2005). Other scientists have demonstrated that positive
moods can also increase a person’s creativity. In one experiment,
participants were shown groups of three words (e.g., falling, actor, dust)
and were asked to find a word that related to all three items (e.g., star).
Individuals in the positive mood condition scored higher than other
participants (Isen et al., 1987). This increase in flexible thinking is crucial

during coping, as it would help people experiencing negative emotions
reframe their stressors into something less upsetting.
Although the effects of positive emotions on our ability to perceive and
think are interesting, the most stunning effect of positive emotions is their
effect on our autonomic nervous system. When most of us watch a scary
movie, our heart rates increase as we experience fear. Then, after a little
while, our heart rates return to normal. But the speed at which this
recovery occurs can be influenced by positive emotions. Researchers have
found that when participants watched positive films after seeing a scary
movie clip, their heart rate returned to normal faster than when
participants viewed a sad or neutral film (see Figure 14.8 ). The positive
emotions seemed to defuse the effects of the negative emotions, thus
decreasing the amount of damage that stress and negative emotions can
have on the body (Fredrickson & Levenson, 1998). Because positive
emotions allow people to broaden their thought processes and to build
new intellectual, social, and physical resources, these results are now
described as the broaden-and-build theory of positive emotions
(Fredrickson, 2001, 2003).
Figure 14.8 Positive Moods and Recovery from Negative Emotional Events
Research shows that positive moods speed up a person’s recovery from
negative events. In this study, viewing a video depicting positive
emotions (amusement or contentment) caused heart rates to return to
normal levels faster than a neutral or sad video (Fredrickson & Levenson,
1998).
Source: Data from Fredrickson, B. L., & Levenson, R. W. (1998). Positive emotions speed recovery
from the cardiovascular sequelae of negative emotions. Cognition & Emotion, 12, 191–220. Fig. 3, p.
205.
Optimism and Pessimism
Closely linked to positive emotions is the concept of optimism , the
tendency to have a favourable, constructive view on situations and to expect
positive outcomes. People who are optimistic tend to initially perceive
situations in a positive way and are also more likely to find positive
elements in situations. In contrast, pessimism  is the tendency to have a

negative perception of life and expect negative outcomes. These individuals
often have what is known as pessimistic explanatory style , which is the
tendency to interpret and explain negative events as internally based (i.e., as
being due to that person rather than to an external situation) and as a constant,
stable quality (Burns & Seligman, 1989). For example, a laid-off employee
who struggles to find a job may attribute the problem to his perceived
inability to network properly rather than to the fact that it is tough to find
jobs in his field. Pessimism is also often linked with negative affectivity ,
the tendency to respond to problems with a pattern of anxiety, hostility, anger,
guilt, or nervousness. These negative emotions make it difficult for these

individuals to choose an appropriate coping strategy for a given problem
(DeLongis & Holtzman, 2005; O’Brien & DeLongis, 1996). For instance,
someone with high levels of negativity may deal with a difficult breakup
by socially withdrawing from others and by becoming angry and
resentful. Such responses also make it more difficult for others to provide
social support.
As you might expect after reading the previous section, optimism is
correlated with better physical health than pessimism. For example,

scientists have shown that women who tend toward pessimism and test
positive for the HPV virus (a papilloma virus known to cause cervical
cancer) have lower counts of white blood cells that fight disease than do
optimistic women with the HPV virus. Long-term studies show similar
effects of optimism. In the U.S. Veterans Affairs Normative Aging Study
involving a large cohort of male participants, optimists had a lower
incidence of coronary heart disease than did pessimists (Kubzansky et al.,
2001). Similarly, researchers at the Mayo Clinic administered personality
tests assessing optimism and pessimism to patients who came into the
clinic for general medical issues during the 1960s. Thirty years later, the
data on optimism and pessimism were compared to patient survival. The
researchers found a 19% increase in mortality risk in people who were
consistently pessimistic (Maruta et al., 2000). Perhaps a good attitude
does more than help individuals cope emotionally with illness; perhaps it
actually helps them overcome it.
Although these studies present a convincing case for optimism, there is
an alternative explanation for the results: Optimists and pessimists may
simply have had different lifestyles. One of these other lifestyle variables
(e.g., diet) could potentially explain the health differences between
optimists and pessimists. In order to control for this possibility, a group of

U.S. researchers conducted longitudinal (long-term) studies of a group of
females with nearly identical lifestyles: nuns. The Nun Study, as it is now
known, was exceptional in that it allowed researchers to examine how
personality factors such as optimism and pessimism affected people over

the course of their lifetime while controlling for variables such as diet,
work demands, and stress. As part of this study (which is part of a

longitudinal study about factors leading to Alzheimer’s disease), the
researchers examined the handwritten autobiographies of 180 nuns.
These documents were written by the nuns when they were entering the
order in their early to mid-twenties. The emotional content of the
autobiographies was coded by the researchers to see if positive emotions
predicted how long the nuns lived. Here are two excerpts from the study:
Sister 1 (low positive emotion): I was born on September 26, 1909, the eldest of seven
children, five girls and two boys. . . . My candidate year was spent in the Motherhouse,
teaching Chemistry and Second Year Latin at Notre Dame Institute. With God’s grace, I intend
to do my best for our Order, for the spread of religion and for my personal sanctification.
Sister 2 (high positive emotion): God started my life off well by bestowing upon me a grace of
inestimable value. . . . The past year which I have spent as a candidate studying at Notre
Dame College has been a very happy one. Now I look forward with eager joy to receiving the
Holy Habit of Our Lady and to a life of union with Love Divine. (Danner et al., 2001, p. 806)
The researchers found a strong correlation between positive emotions

during young adulthood and the longevity of the nuns—people who were
more positive during their twenties lived longer than less positive people
(Danner et al., 2001). Similar results have been found with less-controlled
populations (Maruta et al., 2000; Peterson et al., 1998), suggesting that

the results of The Nun Study are due to optimism and positivity, not to an
act of divine intervention.

Resilience
Thus far, we have discussed a number of factors that can reduce the
effects of stress and promote well-being. However, there are times when
negative life events are unavoidable. As you have likely noticed in your
own life, individuals differ in their ability to bounce back from events
such as disaster, disease, or major loss. This trait is known as resilience ,

the ability to effectively recover from illness or adversity. Resilient people tend
to have one or more factors stacked in their favour. Financial and social
resources, opportunities for rest and relaxation, and other positive life
circumstances contribute to resiliency. Even so, amazing stories of
resiliency can be found among individuals living with unimaginable

stress. Thus, the personality and emotional characteristics discussed
earlier are also important contributors to resiliency in the face of
adversity.
One amazing example is that of Viktor Frankl, an early- and mid-20th-

century Austrian psychiatrist. Frankl was already an influential physician
and therapist when he, his wife, and family were forced into
concentration camps during World War II. Frankl found himself in the
role of helping people adjust to life in the concentration camp, even while
he himself struggled to survive each day. He encouraged others to tap
into whatever psychological resources they had left to cope with very
bleak circumstances. Frankl found that one of the most critical parts of
surviving in these camps was finding some sort of meaning in life. For
some, this could be the desire to reunite with their family when the war
eventually ended. For others, it was a love of poetry (astoundingly, some
prisoners were able to write poetry in the concentration camps). But if a
prisoner seemed to lose this sense of meaningfulness in his life, Frankl
could tell that this prisoner would soon die. As Frankl later noted,
“Despair equals Suffering minus Meaning” (Gelman et al., 2000, p. 625).
A key challenge, then, was to maintain this sense of meaningfulness so
that people had a purpose in their lives. Doing so allowed them to cope
and remain resilient while witnessing terrifying events. Eventually
Frankl’s wife and parents were deported to different concentration camps,
where they were murdered. Despite his own enormous losses, Frankl
continued helping others to cope and find solace under the worst of
circumstances (Frankl, 1959).
Psychologists have long focused on the negative outcomes of stress, but
stories such as Frankl’s demonstrate that stress and trauma can also lead
people to recognize how strong they really are. In fact, psychologists
describe the phenomenon of post-traumatic growth , the capacity to grow
and experience long-term positive effects in response to negative events
(Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004). It happens in response to events such as

automobile accidents, sexual and physical assault, combat, and severe
and chronic illnesses. Individuals who experience post-traumatic growth

often report feeling a greater sense of vulnerability, yet over time develop
an increased inner strength. They also report finding greater meaning and
depth in their relationships, a greater sense of appreciation for what they
have, and an increased sense of spirituality (Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004).
Post-traumatic growth is not an alternative reaction to post-traumatic

stress. Rather, the two conditions occur together. Clinicians recognize
that the growth occurs during the process of coping, not because of the
event itself. Often a clinical psychologist trained in working with trauma

victims helps facilitate the growth process and assists the individual in
finding the interpersonal and social resources needed for healing. Some
of these resources include medications and some form of counselling. It is
also becoming increasingly common for people to use other techniques to
reduce responses to stress and negative events, including meditation and

yoga.
Meditation and Relaxation
Many people report significant benefits by using relaxation and
meditation techniques to cope with stress and life’s difficult periods. Both
techniques are designed to calm emotional responses as well as
physiological reactions to stress. Meditation  is any procedure that
involves a shift in consciousness to a state in which an individual is highly

focused, aware, and in control of mental processes. However, to say
“meditation” is a bit simplistic, as meditation has many different
techniques and is practised, in some form, in almost every known culture.
In some types of meditation, the individual focuses his or her attention on

a chosen object, such as a point on the wall or a physical sensation like
the feeling related to breathing. This technique is known as focused
attention (FA) meditation. When distracting or negative thoughts enter into
their awareness and interfere with meditation, people are taught to accept
these thoughts in a nonjudgmental manner, and to then nudge their

attention back to its original focus (Lutz et al., 2008). Although this
technique is initially quite difficult, over time people become quite good
at maintaining their attention on their chosen object.
A second type of meditation is open monitoring (OM) meditation. This
technique also uses focused attention to train the mind and to reduce the
influence of distractions. After initial training with FA, people can
transition into the use of OM styles of meditating. Here, meditators pay
attention to moment-by-moment sensations without focusing on any

particular object (Cahn & Polich, 2006). A key feature of OM is to attempt
to experience each sensation intensely, examining its rich sensory
properties and emotional characteristics in great depth; however, these
sensations should not become the sole focus of attention, preventing the
meditator from responding to other sensations.
The idea that the feelings of happiness and relaxation associated with
meditation are due, in part, to us becoming more attentive to the present
moment and less attentive to our own “stories” has found some support
in research performed at the University of Toronto. Norm Farb and

colleagues (2007) used fMRI to examine brain activity in trained
meditators and a control group of non-meditators. Participants were
asked to take one of two perspectives while reading lists of positive (e.g.,
charming) and negative (e.g., greedy) words. During half of the
experiment, participants were asked to use a Narrative Focus, which
required them to think about what each word meant and how it related to
them. During the other half of the experiment, participants were asked to
use an Experiential Focus, which required them to pay attention to their
thoughts and bodily reactions to the words as they happened, but without
any judgment or elaboration. If they found themselves distracted by any
memories or thoughts inspired by a word, they were to calmly return

their attention to the present moment. The results were intriguing:
During the Experiential Focus condition (which is quite similar to a

meditative state), trained meditators showed a larger decrease in activity
in areas of the frontal lobes related to “the self” (the medial prefrontal
cortex) than did novices. They also showed increased activity in areas
related to the perception of their bodily states. These results suggest that
meditation does in fact help us separate ourselves from our own
narratives and live in the present moment.
Given that numerous other studies have shown that meditation leads to
decreased levels of anxiety (Chen et al., 2012; Hoffman et al., 2011), it is

possible that redirecting attention away from our own self-focused
thoughts might improve our ability to be happy. Additionally, meditation
has been shown to be very effective in reducing blood pressure, which

decreases the likelihood of experiencing long-term problems with
hypertension and cardiovascular disease (Levine et al., 2017). Taken

together, research suggests that meditation can be used as a method of
coping with stress and negative emotions and promotes healthy and
compassionate behaviour (Condon, 2019).
Mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR)  is a structured relaxation

program based on elements of mindfulness meditation. The primary goal of
MBSR is to help people to cope and to relax by increasing the link

between the body and mind. A common meditative technique used in
MBSR is a body scan in which participants pay attention to the sensation

of their toes, then their feet, ankles, calves, and so on. By attempting to
focus on bodily sensations for 15 to 20 minutes, the participants engage in

a great deal of attentional control; if the person’s mind wanders, they are
simply asked to bring it back to the body scan without judging themself
for the slip-up. During these relaxation exercises, participants are
instructed to recognize and become aware of any emotions they may
experience, but to then let them go so that the emotion is not part of their
identity. Studies using MBSR have found that it reduces stress (Baer et al.,
2012) and increases a sense of meaningfulness in life (Dobkin, 2008). Not

surprisingly, MBSR also leads to increased brain activity in the insula, a
brain area related to perceiving bodily sensations; this area is involved

with a person’s ability to focus on the present moment (Farb et al., 2013).
The many forms of meditation and mindfulness practices are related to

measurable changes in brain structure and functionality (Tang et al.,
2015).
Altered brain activity has also been found after people learned a complex
form of meditation called integrated mind–body training (IMBT). This

technique, developed from traditional Chinese medicine, involves a
combination of relaxation and posture correction, as well as instructions
for heightening awareness of your own body (Tang, 2011). Similar to

MBSR, this technique has been shown to enhance the control of attention
(Tang et al., 2007). IMBT has also been linked to an increased ability to
control bodily physiology. In one study, researchers compared

participants who had completed either five days of IMBT or five days of a
simpler relaxation training program. The IMBT group showed lower heart
rates, breathing rates, and skin conductance responses (a measure of
stress) than did the relaxation training group. These differences appear to
be due to activity in a region of the medial (middle) prefrontal cortex
called the anterior cingulate gyrus. This area is involved in controlling
attention as well as in some emotional responses. In this study, activity
within the anterior cingulate was associated with the participants’
increased control over parasympathetic nervous system responses. The

increased parasympathetic activity accounted for the heightened sense of
relaxation experienced while meditating (Tang et al., 2009). Interestingly,
later studies showed a strengthening of the white-matter connections
between the anterior cingulate and emotional structures in the base of the
brain (Tang et al., 2010), suggesting that IMBT can change how different
neural regions interact.
Meditation, mindfulness, and yoga have become widespread practices for
promoting physical and mental health among North Americans.
Tyler Olson/Shutterstock
Although meditation does appear to have a number of health benefits,

training procedures like MBSR and IMBT might not be for everyone.
However, there is a relaxation technique that many people in your class

likely already perform: yoga. According to various organizations,
approximately 1.5 million Canadians regularly practise yoga (in one of its
many forms). Yoga involves directed breathing while participants move
their bodies into specific poses. This voluntary breathing can influence
activity in the parasympathetic nervous system, leading to a decrease in
emotional arousal (Sovik, 2000). Consistent with this view, U.S. college
students who performed directed breathing had lower levels of physical
and mental stress than did control participants (Cappo & Holmes, 1984).
Yoga may also help your immune system; when compared to people in a
simple relaxation condition (nature walks and soft music), people who
performed yoga had greater changes in gene expression in the immune
cells circulating in the bloodstream (Qu et al., 2013). Long-term
practitioners of yoga have increased connectivity between the frontal
cortex and the circuitry involved in emotional responding, which
supports the hypothesis that practices such as yoga (and meditation) help
establish top-down control of attentional and emotional responses
(Hernández et al., 2018).
Thus, scientific studies of meditation and relaxation training in all their

forms appear to confirm their health benefits, and are also bringing us
closer to understanding precisely how these changes to the brain and
body help us cope with stress and negativity.
Psych@
Church
Stress-reduction techniques like mindfulness are sometimes
associated with spiritualism, as many arose as part of different

Buddhist traditions. However, a belief in a higher power is not a
requirement of these techniques. In contrast, many people use
religion as their primary coping mechanism during stressful
situations, both large and small. They may use any combination
of religious practices, depending on the specific nature of the
faith: prayer, meditation, religious counselling, and social
support from family and congregations. All of these efforts can
provide strength and comfort during difficult times, and they

may also be associated with greater overall happiness. Many
psychologists have become increasingly curious about the
possible health benefits associated with religion and
spirituality. Numerous studies have found that people who are
very religious and are actively engaged with religious practices

do, in fact, live a bit longer than do people who are less
religious or non-religious (McCullough et al., 2000). An analysis
of obituary information estimated that religious affiliation adds
about four years to a person’s life (Wallace et al., 2019).
A hasty interpretation of these results might lead one to

conclude that religion causes people to live longer—that the
experiences of prayer and attending a house of worship lead to

greater longevity. However, the studies in this area actually
produce correlational, not experimental, data—psychologists
cannot randomly assign people to be religious or not.
Consequently, we must consider alternative explanations. For

example, lifestyle factors are also at play. Younger and older
people of Muslim, Jewish, or Christian faith are more likely to
engage in healthy behaviours, including wearing seatbelts,

visiting the dentist, and avoiding both the consumption of
alcohol and cigarette smoking (reviewed in McCullough &

Willoughby, 2009). Religions also tend to have negative views of
criminal activity, drug abuse, and risky sexual activity. Thus, the
increased longevity is probably related to the greater self-

control and self-regulation that are characteristic of many
religious belief systems.
Generally, people who are religious show greater well-being

and lower levels of depression (Smith et al., 2003). The
determination of whether religion protects people from
depression depends on the point of view taken, however.

People who cope with problems using positive aspects of
religion (e.g., treating other people with compassion and
kindness, as well as collaborating with others in solving

problems) are less prone to depression than religious people
who adopt negative appraisals of their problems and concerns,

such as viewing problems as a result of punishment by a
wrathful God (Ano & Vasconcelles, 2005; McCullough &
Willoughby, 2009).
Exercise
Relaxation training and religious study both require discipline;
individuals must follow instructions or teachings in a fairly consistent
manner. Staying in good physical condition requires similar devotion, and
also produces considerable physical and psychological benefits. However,
even short bursts of exercise can be useful. For example, researchers in

Germany asked university-student participants either to do all-out sprints,
to jog, or to do nothing. The students who sprinted were able to learn
20% more items on a vocabulary list than the students who jogged or
were inactive (Winter et al., 2007). Why did this occur? Perhaps the
sprinters were more motivated than the others. This explanation sounds
plausible, but the researchers randomly assigned healthy participants to
the three groups—so there should not be anything inherent to the sprinter
group that would lead them to learn more words. It appears that the type
of exercise they engaged in led to increased cognitive performance.
Which physiological processes might account for the cognitive edge the
sprinters gained from their intense physical activity? The researchers
discovered that the students who engaged in intense exercise had
increased levels of dopamine, epinephrine, and brain-derived
neurotrophic factor (BDNF) —a protein in the nervous system that
promotes survival, growth, and the formation of new synapses. Cardiovascular
exercise also provides immediate benefits in cognitive processing speed,
again as measured in university-aged students (Hillman et al., 2003). But,
these immediate benefits of exercise are not limited to younger people.
When sedentary adults between 60 and 85 years of age take up weekly

exercise, they show improved brain functioning and cognitive
performance (Hillman et al., 2008; Kramer et al., 1999).
Rigorous exercise has positive effects on the brain and on our cognitive
abilities, making it well worth the time and effort.
shock/Fotolia
One important issue to address is whether these short-term effects
translate into lifelong cognitive benefits from exercise. Results from long-
term studies indicate that a lifestyle that includes regular exercise helps
preserve cognitive function and the brain systems that support it

(Raichlen & Alexander, 2017). Researchers have found that older people
who are at genetic risk for developing Alzheimer’s disease and who show
cognitive impairments can slow the rate of memory decline by exercising

(Lautenschlager et al., 2008; Wang & Holsinger, 2018). It appears that
levels of brain chemicals such as BDNF are boosted by exercise, which

helps explain the changes in the brain that account for the cognitive
benefits. Furthermore, exercise supports the development of new nerve

cells in the hippocampus, a critical area for memory and cognitive activity
(van Praag, 2008). Together, these studies tell us that the benefits of
exercise go far beyond helping you look good.
Review How Do You Cope with Stress?
Source: Scheier, M. F., & Carver, C. S. (1985). Optimism, coping, and health: Assessment and
implications of generalized outcome expectancies. Health Psychology, 4(3), 219-247.
Perceived Control
As Dr. Pennebaker’s story from the beginning of this module illustrates,

the most stressful of circumstances are the ones that people have little or
no control over. For example, children who reside in abusive homes have
no control over their circumstances, nor do the victims of natural
disasters. Each situation can result in people acquiring a sense that their
behaviour has little effect on external events.
Laboratory experiments have demonstrated the negative impact that a
lack of control has on health and behaviour. A classic example comes
from work on avoidance learning in dogs conducted in the 1960s by
Martin Seligman and his colleagues (Seligman & Maier, 1967). In this
study, dogs received electrical shocks while strapped into a harness. Half
of the dogs learned to press a panel in order to escape the shock, thus
providing them some control over their stressor. The other half of the
dogs received the same number of shocks as the first group, but had no
control over when the shocks would occur. After a delay, each dog was
placed in a device known as a shuttle box, consisting of two small areas
separated by a low divider that the animal could easily jump across (see
Figure 14.9 ). On each experimental trial, a light in the shuttle box was
dimmed before the section of the box that the animal was standing on
became electrified, thus providing a shock similar to the one experienced
in the earlier part of the study. Through trial and error, animals that were
in the controllable stress condition learned that they could jump over the
divider to the other side of the shuttle box to get away from the shock.
After a few trials, this behaviour occurred immediately after the warning
tone was presented, which allowed them to avoid the shock altogether. In
contrast, the dogs that had experienced the uncontrollable shocks had
difficulties learning to escape. Instead, they would lie down, whine, and
appear resigned to receive the shock. This finding was described as
learned helplessness —an acquired suppression of avoidance or escape
behaviour in response to unpleasant, uncontrollable circumstances.
Figure 14.9 The Learned Helplessness Procedure
In Seligman and Maier’s study, dogs that could avoid a painful shock
would quickly learn to do so. Conversely, dogs that initially learned they
could not avoid a shock remained passive when the opportunity to do so
was given. The acquired failure to avoid or escape unpleasant
circumstances that are perceived as uncontrollable is referred to as
learned helplessness.
Later studies provided some interesting insights into the behavioural and
brain bases of learned helplessness, with some potentially important
implications for how humans respond to stress (Maier & Seligman, 2016).
Researchers found that stress responses involve nuclei in the brainstem as
well as the ventral (lower) regions of the frontal lobes. When a stressful
event is controllable (e.g., being shocked but having a way to escape), the
brainstem produces a stress response such as increased heart rate and

blood pressure; however, this response is then inhibited by the frontal
lobes (Amat et al., 2005). When a stressful event is not controllable, the
brainstem provides a stress response without being inhibited. This
finding suggests that the degree to which a person perceives a stressor to
be controllable will influence whether the stress response will be

inhibited, and whether the person will experience an event as being
stressful.
The important point about learned helplessness is that the animal, or

person, learns that their actions cannot remove the stress in one situation
(e.g., the harness) and then generalizes that helplessness to other

situations (e.g., the shuttle box). This is similar to the thought processes
of some people with depression. People with depression are prone to

hold beliefs that their actions have no influence on external events, and
that their environment and circumstances dictate outcomes. Learned
helplessness also has similarities to anxiety disorders; namely, increased

nervousness and a feeling of being unable to escape a stressor (Maier &
Watkins, 2005). Clearly, both aspects of learned helplessness can

negatively affect mental and physical well-being. This phenomenon
shows that the perception of control can have a dramatic effect on our
ability to cope. Without it, many humans and some nonhuman species
will endure pain and stress rather than initiating ways to avoid or escape
it.
Compensatory Control and Health
The idea of a random world in which people lack personal
control over events can be discomforting. For example,

hurricanes and tornados are often referred to as “acts of God,”
rather than the result of an unfortunate confluence of
meteorological events and human-populated areas. But does
having a sense of control lead to better health?
What do we know about how people cope

with seemingly random events?
Some people feel as if they are the victims of random events,
while others believe themselves to be the beneficiaries of the
whims of life. However, the idea that randomness dictates

worldly events can create anxiety in people. Even if a person
believes randomness is the rule, they can become highly
motivated to find meaning in the world and, through this search,
a sense that the course of events is determined by the will of

individuals or God (Kay et al., 2009; Rutjens & Kay, 2017). In this
way, many people cope with stressful life events through
compensatory control —psychological strategies people use to
preserve a sense of non-random order when personal control is
compromised (Kay et al., 2009). For example, people who are
skeptical of any divine purpose in the world may change their
view in the wake of personal or societal tragedy. These

observations are primarily correlational, but researchers have
conducted experiments to determine causal relationships
between sense of control and beliefs about randomness versus
orderliness.
How can science explain compensatory

control?
To study compensatory control, researchers have developed a
laboratory task that manipulates people’s sense of personal
control over a situation (Whitson & Galinsky, 2008). In one
study, participants completed a concept identification task in
which two symbols were presented on a computer screen and the
participant had to guess which symbol correctly represented the
concept that the computer had chosen (e.g., the colour of the
symbol, its shape). The computer provided feedback on whether
the participants chose the correct or incorrect symbol after each

trial. Half of the participants received accurate feedback, while
the other half received completely random feedback—sometimes
their correct answers were recorded as incorrect, and vice versa.
Participants receiving random feedback reported feeling a lower
sense of control on a self-report measure.
Following the concept identification task, the participants then
viewed multiple pictures, such as those shown in Figure 14.10 .

If you look closely, you will see that one of the pictures has a
horse-like figure in it, whereas the other image has no discernible

pattern. Participants in both conditions reported seeing faintly
drawn figures, such as the horse. However, participants who had

a diminished sense of control induced by the random feedback
they received on the computer task were more likely to report
seeing patterns within completely random images (Whitson &

Galinsky, 2008).
Figure 14.10 Seeing Images Where There Are None
Do you see a figure in the image on the left? You may see a figure
resembling a horse. What about on the right? There is no
discernible image intended for this image. Psychologists have
found that individuals who feel as though they lack control are
more likely to detect patterns in the image at right than are
people who feel a greater sense of control (Whitson & Galinsky,
2008).
Source: From Whitson, J. A., & Galinsky, A. D. (2008). Lacking control increases
illusory pattern perception. Science, 322, 115–117. Copyright © 2008 by AAAS.
Reprinted through Rightslink, by permission of the AAAS.
It appears that when people feel their sense of control is
undermined, they compensate by heightening their search for

structure in the world, to the point of calling upon their
imagination. This is evident in other domains as well, not just
detecting patterns in random, snowy images. People also gain a

greater need for structure and become increasingly willing to
believe in superstitious rituals and conspiracy theories when their

sense of control is diminished (Figure 14.11 ; Landau et al.,
2015; Whitson & Galinsky, 2008).

Figure 14.11 Exercising Compensatory Control
When people feel as though they lack control over the world,
their need for structure, perceptual order, and beliefs in
superstition and conspiracies increases. Participants who
perceived that they were in control of events were unlikely to see
images in snowy pictures (see Figure 14.10 ) and did not hold
superstitious beliefs or endorse conspiracy theories. When people
perceived that they had lost a sense of control during the
experimental procedure, they reported a greater need for
structure, perceived images in random arrays, became more
superstitious, and endorsed conspiracy theories (Whitson &
Galinsky, 2008).
Source: Based on data from Whitson, J. A., & Galinsky, A. D. (2008). Lacking control
increases illusory pattern perception. Science, 322, 115–117.

A major advantage of the study described here is that the
researchers were able to experimentally induce a perceived lack
of control in the participants who received random feedback on

their performance on the computerized task. The observation
that these participants then perceived images within randomness
and showed a heightened belief in superstition and conspiracies

may help to explain how people respond to lost control outside
of the laboratory. Of course, one limitation is that a real-world
lack of control, such as that which occurs in the face of a natural
disaster or the loss of a job, has far greater consequences. Thus,
as with any laboratory experiment, there is a limit to the degree

to which the results generalize.

Having a sense of control greatly affects how we think about and
interpret the world. In addition, it affects our health. Individuals
who believe they can predict and influence present and future
events tend to have improved physical and mental well-being
compared to people who believe the opposite. For example,

patients who are scheduled to undergo medical procedures, such
as a colonoscopy, have reduced anxiety for the procedure if they
are given clear, informative tutorials about the procedure before
it occurs (Luck et al., 1999).
Researchers have found that when people perceive that they have
lost a sense of control during an experimental procedure, they

report a greater need for structure, perceive images in random
arrays, become more superstitious, and endorse conspiracy
theories (Kay et al., 2009). These researchers have also suggested
that religion is sometimes used as a form of compensatory control

(Kay et al., 2010).
People may also compensate for their lack of control by

performing superstitious rituals, which can provide a sense of at
least partial control over outcomes. This can be seen in everyday
examples, such as among athletes who follow the same steps
when preparing for a game, as well as in extreme, maladaptive
forms, such as in obsessive–compulsive disorder (covered in
Module 15.3 ).
Module 14.3 Summary
14.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with coping and

well-being.
Review Module 14.3
14.3b Understand . . . how control over the environment

influences coping and outlook.
Psychologists have discovered that people (and dogs) become more
willing to allow unpleasant events to occur if they learn (or believe) that
their behaviour brings no change. Having at least some degree of control
helps people (and dogs) cope with these events. When control is
threatened, people use compensatory responses, such as detecting order
within random images.
14.3c Understand . . . positive and negative styles of coping.
Whether someone copes using a positive or negative style is related to
personality (e.g., optimism vs. pessimism). Positive coping includes the
concept of resilience—the ability to recover from adversity, and even

benefit from the experience, as is the case with post-traumatic growth.
Coping via negative affectivity and pessimism can have both
psychological and physiological disadvantages.
14.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of the beneficial effects of

optimism to help you reframe stressful situations as positive
opportunities.
Apply Activity
For each of the following four situations, try to think of both a pessimistic
and an optimistic way of interpreting the event.
1. You find out that you are one of four people to be scheduled for an
interview for a job you really want.
2. Your flight home from Europe is overbooked, so your return home is

delayed by a day.
3. Your car has a flat tire and you have to bike 10 km to get to school in
time for your 10 AM class.
4. Your friend decides to stop attending the kickboxing class that you
really enjoy.
How did you feel after each optimistic and pessimistic interpretation? Did
you feel better after putting a positive spin on things?
14.3e Analyze . . . whether activities such as relaxation

techniques and meditation actually help people cope with stress
and problems.
Meditation and other relaxation methods have been found to be quite

effective in reducing stress. While some training and practice may be
necessary, these techniques are by no means inaccessible to those who

are motivated to pursue them.
Chapter 15
Psychological Disorders
15.1 Defining and Classifying Psychological Disorders
Classifying Psychological Disorders
Challenges with Classifying Psychological Disorders
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Culture and Diagnosing
Mental Disorders
Applications of Psychological Diagnoses
Module 15.1 Summary
15.2 Personality and Dissociative Disorders
Cluster A Personality Disorders: Odd and Eccentric Behaviours
Cluster B Personality Disorders: Dramatic and Erratic
Behaviours
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The Criminal
Psychopath
Cluster C Personality Disorders: Anxious and Fearful
Behaviours
Dissociative Identity Disorder
Module 15.2 Summary

15.3 Anxiety, Obsessive-Compulsive, and Depressive Disorders
Anxiety Disorders
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Specific Phobias
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Mood Disorders
Module 15.3 Summary
15.4 Schizophrenia
Symptoms and Types of Schizophrenia
Explaining Schizophrenia
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: The
Neurodevelopmental Hypothesis
Module 15.4 Summary

Module 15.1 Defining and
MPI/Archive Photos/Getty Images

15.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with defining and
classifying psychological disorders.
15.1b Understand . . . advantages and criticisms associated with the

Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5).
15.1c Apply . . . your knowledge of the mental disorders defence to
decide if defendants are criminally responsible for their actions.
15.1d Analyze . . . whether the benefits of labelling psychological
disorders outweigh the disadvantages.
Over the centuries, our understanding of psychological disorders has
come a very long way. In the Middle Ages, people who we would now
consider mentally ill may have experienced a wide range of reactions
from society. They may have been viewed as possessed by the Devil, and
requiring religious exorcism or even torture. The reason for these

extreme responses was that many people in that era believed that
individuals who exhibited unusual behaviours such as responding to

voices that no one else heard or having hallucinations were under the
sway of evil spirits inhabiting their bodies (Hunter & Macalpine,

1963).
By the 16th century, this belief was part of the witch scares, which for at
least two centuries created mass paranoia as the public sought
protection from witches, who were believed to gain their power through
an allegiance with the Devil. Armed with the Malleus Maleficarum
(Hammer of the Witches), a 1486 German text filled with detailed

instructions for identifying witches, countless people were subjected to
“tests,” such as looking for the “Devil’s mark” on the body, a visible spot
such as a mole or birthmark that could be interpreted as a sign of
allegiance with the Devil. Those who were identified as witches received
treatments such as drowning or being burned at the stake (which
tended not to work well).
Although these historical events seem ridiculous in the 21st century, the
people of that time faced a problem that we still haven’t completely

solved: How do you identify and help someone with a psychological
disorder? Thankfully, our ability to do both has advanced considerably

in the past few hundred years.
Abnormal psychology  is the psychological study of mental illness. How do

psychologists determine whether a person’s behaviours are abnormal?
The key criterion used by psychologists in deciding whether a person has

a disorder is whether the person’s thoughts, feelings, or behaviours are
maladaptive , meaning that they cause distress to oneself or others, impair

day-to-day functioning, or increase the risk of injury or harm to oneself or others
(American Psychiatric Association, 2013). However, as you will read in

Modules 15.2 –15.4 , there are a number of forms of maladaptive
behaviour. Importantly, not all forms of maladaptive behaviours (i.e.,

psychological disorders) respond to the same types of treatments.
Therefore, it is critical for psychologists and psychiatrists to find ways to
accurately diagnose the different types of psychological disorders. Doing

so will make it more likely that patients will receive treatments that are
appropriate for their illness. In this module, we discuss the challenges

associated with classifying these different types of psychological
disorders.
Although the examples at the beginning of this module dramatically

portray how mental illnesses were dealt with in certain points in
European and North American history, it is important to point out that
these instances were the exception rather than the rule. Instead, most
people with psychological disorders were taken care of by their family.

Only in extreme cases were individuals placed in the limited number of
asylums , residential facilities for the mentally ill. Between 1403, when the
Priory of St. Mary of Bethlehem housed six “insane” men, to the 1750s,
when primitive psychiatric wards existed in several European countries,
asylums were essentially storage facilities for patients. This changed in
1751, when the director of St. Luke’s Hospital in London (U.K.), William
Battie, began to write about the potential therapeutic benefits of being
treated by asylum physicians and staff. Battie’s work, along with
important contributions from Philippe Pinel, a physician in France (see
Module 16.1 ), led to the birth of modern psychiatry. A central problem
in this modern psychiatry, however, was identifying which patients would
—and would not—benefit from treatment. A classification system with
clear criteria was needed.

Early Classification Systems
At the beginning of the 1800s, most mental illnesses were classified as
being mania (which included symptoms such as hallucinations and
excessive energy) and melancholia (which included depression and
anxiety). Melancholia was often curable, whereas mania had a much
poorer prognosis. The physicians treating these cases in asylums also had
to treat patients suffering from what we would now call neurological
disorders, including dementia caused by alcoholism and syphilis, a
venereal disease that was quite common during the 1800s (Shorter,
1997). Given that physicians often treated both psychiatric and
neurological cases, it is not surprising that most mental illnesses were

diagnosed in the same way as physical illnesses. Psychiatry at this time
adopted the medical model , which sees psychological conditions through
the same lens as Western medicine tends to see physical conditions—as sets of
symptoms, causes, and outcomes, with treatments aimed at changing
physiological processes in order to alleviate symptoms. Through this lens,

psychological disorders such as depression, anxiety disorders, or autism
can be approached in the same manner as conventional medicine would
approach diabetes or cancer.
It is at this point in the late 1800s that we meet one of the most important
psychiatrists in the history of medicine: Emil Kraepelin. Kraepelin was a
German psychiatrist who spent time studying behaviour with Wilhelm
Wundt, director of the world’s first psychology laboratory in Leipzig.
Later, while working in an asylum, Kraepelin created data cards for each
of the patients under his care in order to track how the patients’ mental
illnesses progressed over time. He would sometimes diagnose the
patients at different points in their treatment in the asylum to see how
their symptoms changed. By testing large numbers of individuals, he was
able to see which symptoms seemed to occur together (e.g., depression
and anxiety). He was also able to tell which disorders were curable and
which ones were more likely to get worse over time.
Emil Kraepelin was one of the most influential clinicians in the history of
psychiatry and psychology. His attempts to classify psychological
disorders based on their long-term outcomes influenced how future
clinicians diagnosed mental illnesses.
Ullstein bild Dtl/Getty Images

Kraepelin published his clinical observations in a widely read textbook
that he frequently updated. In the sixth edition of this book, he stated that
psychological disorders could be divided into 13 large groups. Among

these 13 groups were two related to psychosis, when an individual has
difficulties distinguishing between what is real and what is imagined.

Emotional psychoses would include the large mood swings associated
with what he called manic-depressive disorder (what we now called

bipolar disorder; see Module 15.3 ). Non-emotional psychoses involved
disorganized thoughts such as those related to schizophrenia (see Module
15.4 ). Thus, through careful observation, Kraepelin was able to

distinguish between two prominent disorders that are still treated by
healthcare workers today.
The importance of observations such as Kraepelin’s, along with the

emergence of experimental psychology research in the early 20th century,
pushed the treatment of mental illness into a more prominent position in

medicine. This attention, however, highlighted the need for people
researching or treating mental disorders to have a common set of

terminology. This would ensure that psychologists and psychiatrists
working in hospitals in Toronto and Los Angeles would be referring to
the same thing when they wrote about an illness such as depression. To
address this concern, the American Psychiatric Association published a
Statistical Manual for the Use of Institutions for the Insane. This short
publication provided basic descriptions of common psychological
disorders. Although the book was revised a number of times, it had one
major problem: only about 10% of clinical cases in hospitals matched its
descriptions (Greenberg, 2013)!
The pressure was on the American Psychiatric Association to create a

reference book that would allow researchers and clinicians to accurately
diagnose different mental illnesses. In 1952, it delivered a game-changer.
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual
(DSM)
In World War II, American psychiatrists were hired in large numbers by
the U.S. military to aid in the selection of soldiers and to treat mental
disturbances resulting from military duty. This led to the creation of a

classification scheme that allowed the psychiatrists to identify the
different mental disturbances experienced by soldiers (Houts, 2000).
Building on the military’s diagnostic system, as well as the sixth edition of
the World Health Organization’s International Statistical Classification of
Disease (which included mental disorders), the American Psychiatric

Association created the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental
Disorders (DSM ), a standardized manual to aid in the diagnosis of
disorders. The first edition of the DSM (DSM-I) described the symptoms of
106 different mental disorders. However, some of these disorders
reflected the cultural biases of that era. For instance, homosexuality was
listed as a psychological disorder (and remained one until 1980). The
DSM-I represented an initial attempt to organize psychiatric and
psychological data into a recipe book of sorts for clinicians. But, like most
first attempts, it was an imperfect document. It has been revised several
times since its original publication. With each revision, the number of
psychological disorders has increased, sometimes dramatically (see Figure
15.1 ).
Figure 15.1 The Number of Disorders in the DSM over Time

The number of behaviours that are classified as psychological disorders
has changed over the past 80 years. The numbers increased substantially
from the DSM-I through the DSM-4.
The current version of the DSM is the DSM-5, released in May 2013. The
DSM-5 divides mental illnesses up into 19 categories, each containing
several subtypes. For example, one section of the DSM-5 discusses
different aspects of depression, another covers anxiety disorders, and

another covers schizophrenia. Although each subtype of each disorder is
associated with a number of symptoms, there is a subtle difference in how

psychological disorders are discussed in the DSM-5. More attention is
now paid to how the severity of disorders can exist along a dimension
from relatively mild to very debilitating. This scale reflects the variety of
patients that therapists see in the clinic. It also makes intuitive sense. You
likely know someone who experiences depression but can still usually get
to school; other people with depression might not be able to get

themselves out of bed. The DSM-5 attempts to deal with this variability in
the severity of disorders, at least for some conditions.

The American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of
Mental Disorders (DSM) is the most commonly used reference for
therapists attempting to diagnose a patient’s mental illness. However,
although this tool has many positive points, it has also received
considerable criticism from researchers and clinicians.
Treating some disorders in a dimensional fashion (i.e., mild to severe) has

had some interesting consequences for patients. For example, many of
you have heard of Asperger’s syndrome, a psychological disorder in

which individuals have difficulties in social situations and with
understanding other people’s emotions. (The character Sheldon from the
TV show The Big Bang Theory is often used as an example of this disorder).
Asperger’s syndrome is sometimes treated as a less severe form of autism,
a developmental disorder associated with poor social skills and that may
be accompanied by intellectual impairments. In the DSM-5, Asperger’s
has disappeared. Individuals who were once diagnosed with this disorder
are either considered mildly autistic or no longer have an illness. Such is
the power of a diagnostic manual.
It should be pointed out that the DSM-5 is not intended to be the final
version of this diagnostic tool. Its designers assumed that revisions would
be published as brain imaging and genetic research shed additional light

on mental illnesses. That said, the DSM-5—and psychological diagnosis in
general—has received a great deal of criticism in the past few years. The
impact of these criticisms on patients, as well as the general public, will
be discussed in the next section of this module.

Challenges with Classifying
Psychological Disorders
Although the accuracy and reliability of psychologic diagnoses have come
a long way in the past 80 years, there are still a number of problems
associated with determining whether someone does or does not have a
mental illness. Some of these problems are directly related to the DSM-5,
whereas others are more philosophical in nature.

What Is “Maladaptive” Behaviour?
One of the thorniest problems in the mental health field has always been
how to reliably identify who has a mental disorder in the first place (if a
disorder is even a thing that you can have). Given the immense range of
apparently normal human behaviour and experience, how can we
determine what is abnormal? As discussed earlier in this module, a key

determinant in identifying if someone has a mental disorder is whether
their behaviours are maladaptive—in other words, do their behaviours
harm themselves or others in some way?
On the surface, it seems like this question would be easy to answer.

However, there are many exceptions to this guideline. Some behaviours
fulfill these criteria but do not necessarily indicate mental illness.
Consider the following:
Heavy drug users and people with psychopathic tendencies may not
think they have a problem and are therefore not distressed by their
behaviours.
Family members may be concerned about a person’s involvement in a
new relationship, or may disapprove of body modifications such as
tattoos or piercings.
Mourning the loss of a loved one or having a religious conversion
may interfere with a person’s day-to-day activities.
Activists may get arrested for protesting government actions and
extreme sports enthusiasts may risk death or injury out of passion for
their sport.
Obviously, the criteria for determining whether a given behaviour should
be viewed as a disorder are not perfect and cannot account for all
circumstances. But, generally speaking, when a person’s behaviour and
experience start to become significantly dysfunctional, there may be
cause for concern. In order to make more specific diagnoses and
determine exactly what type of disorder a person may have, mental
health professionals rely on the DSM-5’s carefully designed system.
Unfortunately, this system is not perfect.
Deciding whether someone’s behaviour is maladaptive is not always as

simple as it seems on paper. People who take part in extreme sports risk
their lives in order to experience a thrill.
Sky Antonio/Shutterstock
Critiquing the DSM
Psychologists and psychiatrists don’t have precise tools, like litmus tests
in chemistry that can tell you precisely whether something is an acid or a
base. Instead, the diagnostic process is subjective, involving human
clinicians trying to make sense of the different behaviours being
displayed by their clients. In order to try to help clinicians, the DSM offers
lists of specific symptoms that are indicative of specific disorders. These
lists are an attempt to make the diagnostic process more objective, which
should decrease the likelihood that diagnoses are based on individual
clinicians’ biases.
Unfortunately, this doesn’t entirely solve the problem for many reasons.
For one, a clinician still has to subjectively decide whether a client
displays each symptom and whether it is severe enough to be considered
a symptom or just normal experience. For example, at what precise point
does “depressed mood” pass out of the range of normal experiences

(we’re all sad sometimes and go through difficult periods in life) and into
the pathological range? Another problem is that different disorders often
share many common symptoms. As a result, different mental health
professionals might make different diagnoses. The DSM was created, in
large part, to help make the process of diagnosing a disorder more
objective and reliable, but the very nature of human experience is often
subjective, vague, and unreliable.

An additional weakness of the DSM is that there is a fine, and essentially
arbitrary, line between whether a person is considered to have a disorder
or not. For each disorder, the DSM provides a list of possible symptoms
and guidelines as to how many of the symptoms the person must have
before being given the diagnosis. If a person seems to have the necessary
number (e.g., five out of nine possible symptoms), then they have the
disorder, but with one symptom less, they don’t. In practice, what this
means is that the diagnosis a person receives, and even whether a person
receives any diagnosis at all, can depend on a single symptom. Not
surprisingly, this reduces the reliability of diagnoses.

The Power of a Diagnosis
What are the outcomes of diagnosing a person as having a particular
disorder? On the positive side, it is hoped that receiving a diagnosis
should make people more likely to seek and receive effective treatment.
Also, a diagnosis should facilitate communication among mental health
professionals. A label indicates a set of symptoms, probable causes, and

potential treatments, thus summarizing and highlighting the important
pieces of information that will be useful for treating the person. However,
these diagnostic labels can also have their drawbacks.
One concern related to psychological diagnoses is that once a person has

been labelled as having a disorder, the label itself may change how that
person is viewed by others, and how subsequent behaviours are
interpreted. A related problem is that seeing oneself as mentally ill can be
associated with low self-esteem or feelings of helplessness. In some cases,
a diagnosis may lead a person to indulge in even more extreme or

destructive behaviour patterns. Because of stigma and negative attitudes
toward the mentally ill, people may expect that other people will reject
and devalue them. This perception may lead them to withdraw from
social contact and fail to seek the support that could help them (Kroska &
Harkness, 2006; Link, 1987).
People may also become demoralized about their capabilities and
themselves in general, which then interferes with their motivations and
goal-related striving. Sadly, in a classic self-fulfilling prophecy, the long-

term effects can be that people end up experiencing the social rejection
and stigmatization they initially feared (Kroska & Harkness, 2006). In
short, diagnostic labels are supposed to help, but they have the potential
to cause harm. This doesn’t necessarily mean we should stop using
diagnostic labels. But it does mean that we should be especially
concerned about using them accurately.
The challenge of accurately classifying mental illness becomes particularly
apparent when we examine the role of culture in diagnosing
Review Attitudes toward Mental Illness
Source: Watson, A. C., Miller, F. E., & Lyons, J. S. (2005). Adolescent Attitudes Toward Serious
Mental Illness. Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 193, 769–772.
Culture and Diagnosing Mental Disorders
Although much is made of the advances in our knowledge of the
biological causes of psychological disorders, there is also

increasing awareness of the role that culture plays in the
development and symptoms of many mental illnesses. However,
this was not always the case. For most of psychology’s history,
the role of culture in mental illness was either pushed to the

periphery or viewed through a Western cultural lens.
What do we know about culture and

diagnosing mental disorders?
Throughout much of psychology’s history, the discussion of
culture and mental illness often turned to culture-bound

syndromes , expressions of distress that are recognized across a given
culture but that tend not to appear outside of that culture. One such
syndrome is known as ataque de nervios. This disorder, which can
occur in Latin American cultures, involves trembling,

uncontrollable crying and/or shouting, fainting episodes, and, in
some cases, aggressive behaviour. Another example is
neurasthenia or shenjing shuairuo, a relatively common Mandarin
Chinese ailment in which a person experiences extreme fatigue,
physical weakness, pain, and problems with relaxation after
periods of mental effort. However, although illnesses such as
ataque de nervios and neurasthenia were both included in the

DSM-IV, they were often viewed as interesting windows into a
foreign culture rather than useful information that could affect
how North Americans of Latino or Chinese heritage could be
treated. In other words, culture was often viewed as something
that influenced disorders that occurred “over there” rather than
disorders that occur “here.”
How can science explain the effect of culture

on diagnosing mental disorders?
A number of studies have found that the rates of common
disorders like anxiety, depression, and schizophrenia differ across
cultures (Kirmayer & Ryder, 2016). For example, the rates of
anxiety disorders (discussed in Module 15.3 ) can vary by up to
three times depending upon where one lives. These rates are
higher in Latin America and lower in East Asian countries, with
Canada and the United States falling in between (Baxter et al.,

2014). Rates of schizophrenia are higher in African and Afro-
Caribbean immigrants than in other immigrant groups (Veling et
al., 2006). We also know that when people immigrate to a new
country like Canada or the United States, the rates of
psychological disorders are lower if they move into

neighbourhoods that have larger number of people from their
country of origin (Jurcik et al., 2013). Given that the human
genome does not differ much across the globe, it is safe to

conclude that these differences are due to culture, or to an
interaction between culture and biological variables.
There are also cultural differences in the willingness to seek help

for disorders, which can influence how open a patient will be
with a clinician and thus the accuracy of the resulting diagnosis.
Some researchers have found that people from ethnic minorities

prefer to seek help from a clinician from their own ethnic group
(USDHHS, 2001). Other research has found that some groups

prefer to speak to their primary care physician rather than a
mental health specialist, as there is less stigma associated with
talking to a person’s doctor (Hwang et al., 2006, 2008).

An obvious question that arises from these cross-cultural studies
is “If cultural information is important, can it actually be used to
improve the accuracy of diagnoses?” In order to test this
possibility, the DSM-5 now includes the Cultural Formulation

Interview, a supplement aimed at helping clinicians collect
additional information about cultural factors that could influence

diagnoses (Lewis-Fernández et al., 2015). The rationale for this
interview was that increasing awareness of a patient’s cultural

context, including the stresses of immigration (if applicable),
would lead to more efficient and effective treatments for people

seeking help. Although only a few years have passed since its
development, the initial results of studies using the Cultural

Formulation Interview appear positive. Research has shown that
this interview can improve the accuracy of diagnoses such as
schizophrenia and can improve overall clinical outcomes of non-

Caucasian patients (Kirmayer et al., 2014).
An additional question that could emerge from this research is

how can culture influence the rates of different disorders? What is
the mechanism involved? This is a valid question. The most likely

explanation involves epigenetics and the expression of different
genes (see Module 3.1 ). Different geographical locations will

have different climates, pollution levels, violence, poverty, and
stress levels. All of these factors can influence whether or not a

gene is expressed (Meloni, 2014). This, in turn, could account for
cultural differences in both the characteristics and severity of

different psychological disorders. However, much more research
is needed on this topic before it can influence the diagnosis of

Understanding how culture influences the development and
appearance of various psychological disorders will improve the

accuracy of diagnoses. The inclusion of a Cultural Formulation
Interview into some diagnoses is a very positive step forward,
particularly given the dramatic increases in immigration and

migration that the world is currently experiencing. If
psychologists and psychiatrists can continue to improve their
cultural awareness, it will allow them to overcome one of the
major challenges of diagnosing psychological disorders.
Immigrating to a new country and culture can be very difficult.
Researchers have found that many immigrants prefer to seek
treatment from someone who has a similar ethnic background.
SeventyFour Images/Alamy Stock Photo

Applications of Psychological Diagnoses
Perhaps one of the most important things to appreciate about
psychological disorders is that there is no perfect test for identifying
them. Being able to reliably diagnose particular disorders is a central and
ongoing challenge to the mental health fields, and has an impact on

problems that range from getting individuals the treatment they need to
assessing criminal responsibility in the legal system. The fact that our
measurements of psychological disorders are not nearly as accurate as we
would like makes these issues even more difficult to deal with. In this
section, we will discuss two settings in which these types of decisions can
have a profound impact on individuals.

Psychological Diagnoses in the Classroom:
ADHD
Classroom behaviour is one area that presents diagnostic challenges for
psychologists and the educators they are helping. Given that the frontal
lobes of the brain, which serve to inhibit many behaviours, don’t fully
develop until the early 20s, it is easy to see why children sometimes “act
out.” All children misbehave some of the time. But some children’s
activity in the classroom is outside of the normal range of behaviour.
Many children are now diagnosed with attention-deficit hyperactivity

disorder (ADHD) , a developmental disorder in which children show
inappropriate levels of hyperactivity and impulsivity while also having
problems maintaining their attention to people or activities. These children
tend to be fidgety in class, talk quickly and excessively, and fail to listen
to teachers or peers when spoken to (Tarver et al., 2014). These children

can cause disruptions that not only reduce their own learning, but can
alter the learning environment for the other students as well. The
challenge for educators and psychologists is to identify these children so
that they can receive some form of treatment.
The DSM-5 states that an individual must have a minimum of six
symptoms of inattention (i.e., failing to pay attention) or six symptoms of
hyperactivity/impulsivity in order for someone to receive a diagnosis of
ADHD (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). The goal is to select the

children (or occasionally adults) who have enough symptoms that they
have become problematic for the individual while also avoiding
diagnosing people who only display a few disruptive behaviours. If the
psychologists are successful, it can mean that students will gain access to
behavioural therapies shown to help with impulsivity and inattention and
that can improve the students’ educational outcomes (Molitor &
Langberg, 2017). An ADHD diagnosis might also lead to pharmaceutical
treatments that can target the frontal lobe and its connections with
dopamine-releasing brain areas in the basal ganglia (Nakao et al., 2011).
However, some critics have noted that since ADHD was added to the
DSM-III in 1980, diagnoses have skyrocketed, although primarily in North
America (in Europe, ADHD only seems to occur 10% as often). Estimates
of the prevalence of ADHD range from the most common rate of 3% to
5% up to 16% (Rowland et al., 2015). Critics also charge that many
children are being medicated for disruptive activity that is still within the
normal range of childhood behaviour.
There is no definitive answer to this issue. On the one hand, an accurate
diagnosis can allow a hyperactive child to receive a relatively normal

education. On the other hand, some children may be misdiagnosed (i.e.,
a false alarm) and could end up being unnecessarily medicated. ADHD

shows us the challenges and responsibilities associated with
psychological diagnoses.
ADHD is a common psychological diagnosis for children who have
excessive energy and difficulties paying attention in school. Early
diagnosis allows teachers and psychologists to create programs that can
have a profound impact on the students’ educational outcomes. However,
the large number of children that are now being diagnosed has led some
critics to question the reliability of this diagnosis.
martinedoucet/E+/Getty Images
Psychological Diagnoses in the Courtroom:
The Mental Disorder Defence
The challenges associated with psychological diagnoses can play a large
role in the criminal justice system as well. You have no doubt heard that
in some trials a defendant will plead “not guilty by reason of insanity.”

The legal reasoning behind a person being defined as legally sane (i.e.,
criminally responsible) or not is based on the M’Naghten rule, which goes
all the way back to 1843 in Great Britain. Daniel M’Naghten assassinated
the Prime Minister’s secretary, but the jury was convinced that he was not
guilty. They believed that he had been incapable of knowing that what he
did was wrong, so M’Naghten was committed to a mental institution, and
the plea “not guilty by reason of insanity” entered the legal profession.
In Canada, the insanity defence is now referred to as the mental disorder
defence . This defence does not deny that the person committed the
offence, but claims that the defendant was in such an extreme, abnormal state
of mind when committing the crime that they could not discern that the actions
were legally or morally wrong. For example, a person could cause a car
accident or commit murder when they are experiencing severe symptoms
of a disorder, such as the hallucinations that sometimes occur in people
with schizophrenia (see Module 15.4 ). Applying the mental disorder
defence is extremely tricky, and indeed, it is rarely used. One study
showed that this defence is used in less than 1% of cases in Canadian
courts and it has a success rate of less than 25% (Maxwell, 2015).
Whether or not we can objectively and accurately measure “sanity” is
extremely important, as it could be the deciding factor in whether a
person becomes a convicted felon or receives psychiatric treatment.
However, determining whether or not a person was “sane” when they
committed a crime is not an easy thing to do.
Consider two well-known Canadian examples of the mental disorder
defence. In 2006, in Barrie, Ontario, Elaine Campione drowned both of
her daughters (aged 19 months and three years) in a bathtub. At the time,
she was involved in a custody battle with her ex-husband. Elaine had
been diagnosed with a variety of psychological disorders and suffered
delusions, including that others were trying to steal her children. Her
lawyer argued that she was not criminally responsible for her actions, but
the Crown countered that even though she was mentally ill, her particular
disorders did not prevent her from knowing right from wrong. She was
convicted of first-degree murder (Supreme Court of Canada, 2015).
In Edmonton, Alberta, in 2013, Nerlin Sarmiento drowned her seven-
year-old son in a bathtub. Her lawyer argued that she was so deeply
overwhelmed by a major depressive episode that was part of her bipolar
disorder that she had become convinced that she was actually rescuing
her son from a life of poverty and suffering, and believed that killing him
was an act of mercy and kindness. In this case, the courts decided that
Nerlin was not criminally responsible for her son’s death, and required
her to receive psychiatric treatment rather than going to jail (CBC News,
2013).
The critical issue, legally speaking, is whether the person was, at the time
of committing the crime, capable of knowing that what they were doing
was wrong. The Courts decided that Elaine Campione knew what she
was doing was wrong, whereas Nerlin Sarmiento did not. Cases such as
these show both the importance of psychology to the legal system and the
difficulties associated with understanding a defendant’s mental state.
They also highlight the importance of accurately diagnosing a patient’s
condition.
Module 15.1 Summary
15.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with defining

and classifying psychological disorders.
Review Module 15.1
15.1b Understand . . . the advantages and criticisms associated

with the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
(DSM-5).
Using the DSM-5 ensures that all psychologists and psychiatrists are
using the same criteria to define different psychological disorders; this
improves the reliability and consistency of psychological diagnoses.
However, the DSM-5 has faced many criticisms. First, psychologists need
to decide if a symptom is severe enough to warrant treatment. Second,
the number of symptoms that must be present before a disorder is
diagnosed seems somewhat arbitrary (e.g., five out of nine possible
symptoms). Third, although the large number of possible disorders may
make it easier for mental health workers to make a diagnosis, it may also
lead to unnecessary diagnoses. Fourth, there is currently a need for more

biological or genetic markers to be added to the diagnostic criteria for
many disorders.
15.1c Apply . . . your knowledge of the mental disorders defence

to decide if defendants are criminally responsible for their
actions.
The legal consideration of “sanity” hinges on whether a person who
commits a crime understands that their actions are wrong in a legal or a
moral sense.
Apply Activity
Based on what you read about criminal responsibility and the mental
disorders defence, how would you judge the following two cases: guilty
or not guilty? (Note: we have “toned down” elements from real-world
cases to make them much less graphic. However, anyone who is sensitive
to descriptions of violence should feel free to skip this section.)
Case 1: Tyson was diagnosed with schizophrenia two years ago.

Although his symptoms have generally been under control, he has
heard voices and seen things that weren’t really present

(hallucinations) on some occasions. During one of these episodes, he
thought that someone waiting at the bus stop was a demon walking
toward him. Tyson attacked the man, sending him to the hospital
overnight.
Case 2: Rick received treatment for depression for several years.
Although his symptoms were generally under control, he still had

some problems controlling his emotions. While working on a group
project at work, Rick became involved in an intense argument with

his coworkers, whom he felt were not working hard enough. Rick
attacked one coworker, sending him to the hospital overnight.
15.1d Analyze . . . whether the benefits of labelling

psychological disorders outweigh the disadvantages.
To evaluate the importance of the DSM-5’s labels, it would be helpful to

consider their functions. They organize large amounts of information
about symptoms, causes, and outcomes into terminology that mental

health professionals can work with. From a practical point of view, this
system meets the requirements of the insurance companies that pay for
psychological services. One downside to this process is that once the
label is applied, people have a tendency to misinterpret behaviours that
are perfectly normal. Another downside is that if insurance and

pharmaceutical companies have influence over how the guidelines are
decided, then the whole system could be biased in favour of over-

diagnosing and over-medicating people.
Module 15.2 Personality and
Dissociative Disorders
Moviestore/ Shutterstock
15.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with personality and
dissociative disorders.
15.2b Understand . . . how different types of personality disorders can
affect interpersonal relationships

15.2c Apply . . . your knowledge of antisocial personality disorder to
identify which maladaptive behaviour is consistent with each
disorder.
15.2d Analyze . . . the status of dissociative identity disorder as a

legitimate diagnosis.
As children, many of us read the story of Charlie and the Chocolate
Factory, a magical children’s novel by Roald Dahl. In this story,
Charlie, an impoverished boy with a heart of gold, wins a contest that

allows him access to Willy Wonka’s mysterious chocolate factory. Five
children, each with a guardian, are admitted into the factory and
receive a tour from Mr. Wonka himself. Over the course of the novel, the
four other children—all of whom have unlikeable character flaws—are
captured or maimed when they taste experimental foods without
permission. Charlie, who virtuously resists these temptations,
eventually earns Mr. Wonka’s trust and becomes the heir to his factory
and fortune.
It is only upon rereading this novel as an adult that you realize how
strange Willy Wonka really is (Rith-Najarian, 2013). For several

decades, he distanced himself from human contact and only associated
with a strange race of people who were his servants (the Oompa-
Loompas). He showed little emotion when four children were disfigured

on the same one-day tour of his factory. He made odd movements and
expressed himself in a strange manner (e.g., “Oh, my sainted aunt!”).

And many of his thoughts are either suspicions about outsiders or are
abstract and difficult to interpret (e.g., “Bubbles bubbles everywhere

and not a drop to drink!”). Given that these patterns of behaviour
appear to be permanent (and continue in the sequel to the book), we can

infer that they are not a short-term problem. Willy Wonka has patterns
of unusual behaviours and thought processes that have had a negative

effect on his social functioning. Although it is unlikely that this was
Roald Dahl’s intentions when writing this charming novel, Willy
Wonka is a wonderful example of someone with a personality disorder,

the topic of this module.
Chapter 12  described the psychological approaches to personality— the

relatively stable patterns of thinking, behaving, and relating to others that
make each person unique and that are bound up with that person’s
identity. In certain unusual cases, personality patterns can become deeply
entrenched and self-destructive. Mental health professionals define

personality disorders  as particularly unusual patterns of behaviour
(relative to one’s cultural context) that are maladaptive, distressing to oneself or

others, and resistant to change. In addition to these points, the DSM-5 is
careful to note that the behaviours associated with a personality disorder

must have lasted a long time; generally, they can be traced back to
adolescence or early childhood. It is also important to ensure that the
distressing behaviour patterns aren’t due to another psychological

disorder (e.g., schizophrenia), to a medical condition (e.g., brain
damage), or to a substance such as medications or recreational drugs.
The DSM-5 identifies 10 distinct personality disorders, which are

categorized into three clusters based on shared features (see Table
15.1 ). Cluster A disorders are characterized by odd or eccentric

behaviour. Cluster B disorders are indicated by dramatic, emotional, and
erratic behaviour. Finally, Cluster C disorders are characterized by

anxious, fearful, and inhibited behaviour. In addition to these 10
disorders, the DSM-5 also identifies Personality Disorder Not Otherwise
Specified, which is a diagnosis given to individuals who exhibit patterns

of behaviour consistent with that of a personality disorder but that does
not fit into any of the personality disorder categories described above.
Table 15.1 Types of Personality Disorders

Personality dysfunctions may occur that are not accounted for in the
above categories. For example, Personality change due to another
medical condition might be diagnosed if an individual shows persistent
personality change after a brain injury. Also, other specified personality
disorder and unspecified personality disorder might be diagnosed if a
person meets some of the criteria for one or more disorders listed above,
but sufficient criteria for a specific disorder have not been met.
In this module, we will explore the personality disorders listed in the

DSM-5, with particular attention being paid to the Cluster B, the
disorders that have received the most attention from researchers (and
Hollywood). Before beginning, it is important to note that many readers

will have some personality traits in common with various personality
disorders. This does not mean you have a mental illness. Each disorder
listed in this module requires individuals to have a number of different
symptoms; these are best diagnosed by a trained clinician.

Cluster A Personality Disorders: Odd
and Eccentric Behaviours
The general theme of Cluster A personality disorders is that the
individual tends to perceive and interpret the world in an abnormal—and
usually inaccurate—way. They also tend to express their thoughts in a
manner that makes it difficult for them to form close social relationships.
Paranoid Personality Disorder
Most people have mistakenly believed that someone else was lying to
them or trying to harm them in some way. These mistakes can happen to
almost everyone. However, in paranoid personality disorder (PDP) ,
individuals are consistently preoccupied by the belief that other people are
attempting to harm or deceive them; they often react with anger to these
imagined social or physical threats. In other words, people with PDP are
suspicious of others even when there is no justification for these
suspicions. When asked personal questions by colleagues, they frequently
attempt to avoid answering or may simply say that it is “nobody’s
business” (Lee, 2017). As a result of these distorted perceptions of other

people’s intentions, people with PDP have a difficult time forming close
relationships. As depicted in Figure 15.2 , this tendency can form a
vicious circle of repeated negative social interactions and negative
thought processes (Carroll, 2009).
Figure 15.2 Social Cognition in Paranoid Personality Disorder

Individuals with paranoid personality disorder tend to interpret other
people’s intentions as being malicious. They then tend to repeatedly think
about these perceived attacks. As a result, they are primed to interpret
future social interactions as being socially (or physically) threatening.
Source: Adapted from Kramer, R. M. (1998). Paranoid cognition in social systems: Thinking and
acting in the shadow of doubt. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 2, 251–75.
The DSM-5 indicates that approximately 2% to 4% of the population has
some form of PDP, although little is known about the genes involved with
this disorder. From a biological standpoint, neuroimaging studies have
found that people with PDP show faster neural responses to auditory
stimuli than a matched control group (Liu et al., 2007). They also have
larger levels of stress hormones in their cerebrospinal fluid, the liquid

substance found in the ventricles and sinuses of the brain (Strome et al.,
2002). These findings both show that PDP is associated with vigilance for
threats, whether they are real or imagined.
Schizoid Personality Disorder
Some personality disorders involve people repeatedly isolating
themselves from others. In schizoid personality disorder (SPD) , an
individual is socially detached; he or she does not desire close relationships,
including being part of a family, and takes little pleasure in most activities.
Individuals with this personality disorder tend to appear cold and aloof.
They do not express many emotions and, when they do, these
expressions are less intense than is normal. They often appear indifferent
to praise or criticism from others. Although this behaviour sometimes
comes across as arrogance, this is often not the case. Many people with
SPD feel so distant from people that they wonder if other people notice
them at all. In a first-person account of his adolescent schizoid
personality disorder, British researcher Peter Chadwick recounted a story
of being stunned—and oddly pleased—when a car stopped for him at a
crosswalk. It reminded him that other people really did notice that he
existed (Chadwick, 2014).

Schizotypal Personality Disorder
The final Cluster A personality disorder is schizotypal personality
disorder , which consists of both a discomfort with close relationships as well
as unusual or eccentric thoughts and behaviours. Individuals with this
personality disorder tend to be suspicious and superstitious. They
frequently get lost in their own thoughts and imagine connections

between thoughts and events that do not really exist. For example, you
might think that your family’s dog needs to be walked. But when your
sibling actually takes the dog for a walk an hour later, it is unlikely that
you would think that this is due to your previous thoughts. Someone with
schizotypal personality disorder might make this connection. People with

this illness also tend to express their thoughts using abstract and
strangely formed sentences, as was the case with our friend Willy Wonka,
mentioned in the opening of this module.
There are a number of brain areas that could be involved in a disorder

with unusual patterns of thinking and speaking. The region that has been
most consistently linked with this personality disorder is the superior
temporal gyrus, particularly in the left hemisphere (Rossell et al., 2015).
This gyrus is home to the auditory cortex and is also linked with some
language processes. It is possible that the strange manner of speaking
found in many people with schizotypal personality disorder is associated
with the smaller size of this gyrus (Takahashi et al., 2011).

Researchers have identified a number of factors that are associated with
the development of schizotypal personality disorder. At the genetic level,
one form of the COMT gene, which is related to the neurotransmitters
dopamine and epinephrine, makes someone more likely to develop SPD
(Avramopoulos et al., 2002). Problems during pregnancy—particularly
exposure to the flu virus during week 23 of prenatal development—has
also been associated with later schizotypal development in males
(Machón et al., 2002). Psychological trauma and chronic stress have also
been linked with this disorder (Peskin et al., 2011). Again, as in so many
illnesses, genetics and the environment interact during the development

of schizotypal personality disorder. This is also the case for the dramatic
and erratic personality disorders of Cluster B, which we will discuss in the
next section of this module.

Cluster B Personality Disorders:
Dramatic and Erratic Behaviours
The general theme of Cluster B personality disorder is emotional
intensity. Although the four Cluster B disorders differ in the types of
emotions that are expressed, each one can involve emotional outbursts
that impair normal social functioning.

Borderline Personality Disorder
One of the clearest examples of the emotional dysfunction that lies at the
core of personality disorders is found in borderline personality disorder
(BPD)  which is characterized by intense extremes between positive and
negative emotions, an unstable sense of self, impulsivity, and difficult social
relationships. People with BPD experience a wide range of emotions,

including extremely positive states such as joy, excitement, and love, but
also very powerful destructive emotions such as anger, despair, and
shame.
Their relationships are characterized by instability and intensity, possibly

due to the fact that the medial frontal lobes—brain areas related to the
regulation of attention and emotional responses—are smaller than in
healthy controls (Denny et al., 2016). A person with BPD may fall in love
quickly and passionately, but also be highly fearful of abandonment and
thus react intensely to any sign of rejection or criticism, quickly becoming

disgusted with and rejecting their partner. They are often highly
manipulative in relationships, attempting to keep the person under their
control. In fact, their emotional reactions and ability to be emotionally
manipulative in relationships are so strong that therapists typically limit
themselves to a very small number of clients with BPD.
It is believed that borderline personality disorder arises out of the
person’s attempts to deal with deeply rooted insecurity and severe
emotional disturbances that are ultimately rooted in emotionally difficult

experiences, such as inconsistent, abusive, or neglectful parenting. To
cope with or escape from negative emotions, the person often engages in
impulsive, risky, or self-destructive behaviour, including substance abuse,
indiscriminate sex, self-injury such as cutting or burning oneself, and
even suicide (American Psychiatric Association, 2013; Linehan, 1993).

Narcissistic Personality Disorder
Narcissistic personality disorder (NPD)  is characterized by an inflated
sense of self-importance and an excessive need for attention and admiration, as
well as intense self-doubt and fear of abandonment. So, NPD has two sides
that appear contradictory. One part is focused on self-enhancement and
ensuring that attention is focused on them, while the other consists of a

fragile ego that is extremely sensitive to criticism.
Behaviourally, the central focus on the narcissistic person’s own feelings
and self-importance leaves little room for empathy for others. Instead,
they tend to be manipulative and put themselves first, ensuring their own
needs are met in their relationships regardless of the toll it takes on
others. In many public situations, such as school, people with NPD have a
strong sense of entitlement, believing that people should satisfy their
demands, and being likely to do whatever it takes, including cheating, in
order to ensure their own success (Brunell et al., 2011). Recent

neuroimaging studies suggest that these behaviour patterns may be due
to disruptions of a frontal-lobe circuit involved with empathy (Schulze et
al., 2013). This result would be consistent with the symptoms seen in the
clinic (and in some U.S. government offices).

According to Greek mythology, Narcissus discovered his image reflecting
on the surface of a pool of water. Unable to tear himself away from the
beauty of his own face, Narcissus wasted away and died at the water’s
edge. In modern times, narcissism describes a person who has an inflated
sense of self-importance.
Narcissus, c.1597-99 (oil on canvas), Caravaggio, Michelangelo Merisi da (1571–1610)/Palazzo

Barberini, Rome, Italy/Bridgeman Images
Histrionic Personality Disorder
Emotional dysfunction can also be seen in histrionic personality disorder
(HPD) , which is characterized by excessive attention seeking and dramatic
behaviour. “Histrionic” comes from a Latin word meaning “like an actor or
like a theatrical performance”—an apt label for this disorder. People who
have HPD are typically high-functioning because their dramatic nature

makes them seem vibrant and attractive in social situations, and they
readily use flirtatiousness, sexuality, and flattery to garner the social
attention they crave. Similar to the other personality disorders discussed
in this section, the histrionic person often engages in indulgent and risky
behaviours, and tends to be highly sensitive to criticism and generally

manipulative in relationships. The key difference between HPD and the
other personality disorders in this cluster is the flamboyance and
exhibitionistic tendencies in histrionic behaviour. HPD appears to have a
strong genetic component. The heritability estimate of HPD is 0.63
(Torgersen et al., 2000). However, little is known about the specific genes
or the brain areas underlying this personality disorder.
Antisocial Personality Disorder
In contrast to histrionic personality disorder, which is associated with
dramatic behaviour, the diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder
(APD)  is given to individuals who have a profound lack of empathy or
emotional connection with others, a disregard for others’ rights or preferences,
and a tendency toward imposing their own desires, often violently, onto others
regardless of the consequences for other people or, often when younger, animals.
APD tends to be highly resistant to treatment, in part because individuals
with APD are not alarmed or distressed by their actions (although others
frequently are), and they are thus rarely, if ever, motivated to change.
Adults with APD and children with conduct disorders (often a precursor to
APD) have difficulty learning tasks that require decision making and
following complex rules. Brain imaging studies show that children with
conduct disorders perform worse at these tasks and have reduced activity
in the frontal lobes compared with healthy controls and even children
with ADHD (Finger et al., 2008). Thus, it appears that cognitive factors
and underlying brain systems are involved in personality disorders.
Troubled homes and communities can contribute to the development of
antisocial personality disorder (Meier et al., 2008). People with APD have
often experienced trauma or abuse. A history of being treated as an object
rather than as a sensitive human being has consequences. The need to
defend the self against intensely negative emotions and experiences may
effectively shut down (or impair the development of) the emotional
circuitry for empathy. This often results in aggression and cruelty toward
others, including animals.

The Criminal Psychopath
Although the descriptions of APD bring to mind images of violent
criminals, this is not always the case. Ironically, many of the

characteristics of APD may themselves be highly desirable, or at
least useful, in some professions (Dutton, 2012). The ability to
emotionally detach from people, to be manipulative and able to
deceive or lie without any moral reservations, to be charming and

charismatic so as to appear to connect with people even though
you can easily see people as tools to be used to satisfy your own
desires, may well be rewarded in the worlds of CEOs, lawyers,
salespeople, and undoubtedly many other social environments
(Babiak & Hare, 2006). But one subset of people with APD are in
fact violent criminals, and have captured the morbid imagination
of movie-goers for decades: the criminal psychopath.
What do we know about psychopaths?

Although the term psychopath often gets used as a synonym for
APD, there are some differences between the two. Approximately
15% to 20% of people with APD would also be diagnosed with

psychopathy (Ogloff, 2006). Psychopaths are frequently
diagnosed using the Hare Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-
R; Hare, 2003), a 20-item checklist on which an assessor decides
the degree to which a patient matches different characteristics.

The PCL-R breaks down into two main factors. The
Interpersonal/Emotional factor contains items such as “superficial
charm,” “pathological lying,” “lack of empathy,” and “lack of
guilt.” The Social Deviance factor contains items such as “need
for stimulation,” “impulsivity,” “poor behavioural controls,” and
“early behavioural problems.” People with APD (but who are not
psychopaths) tend to score highly on the Social Deviance items.
Psychopaths, on the other hand, score high on both factors, but
are particularly high on the Interpersonal/Emotional items. This
result has led some psychiatrists to suggest that psychopathy is

an extreme form of APD (Coid & Ullrich, 2010).
How can science explain psychopaths’

behaviours?
You may have heard stories of people who have snapped under
stress and committed horrific acts—however, this type of extreme

stress response does not at all characterize psychopaths. In fact,
researchers have discovered that psychopaths are under-reactive
to stress. For example, a flash of light, a loud sound, or the
sudden appearance of an angry face will startle most people. In
contrast, psychopaths show very weak startle responses when

exposed to unpleasant stimuli. In one study, researchers recorded
the electrical signals of the eyeblink muscles while presenting
disturbing images to a group of male prisoners from an American

jail and a control group (i.e., without a psychological disorder).
Figure 15.3  illustrates the results—the strength of the startle

response is indicated by the height of the bars. The psychopaths
(the bars on the right side) had much weaker responses than the
control group (on the left; Levenston et al., 2000).
Figure 15.3 Emotional Responses of Psychopaths

This graph shows the strength of autonomic response to three
types of pictures: mutilations, assault, and threat. Responses are
much greater among healthy control subjects (the three bars on
the left) than among psychopaths (the three bars on the right).
Source: Adapted from Levenston, G. K., Patrick, C. J., Bradley, M. M., & Lang, P. J.
(2000). The psychopath as observer: Emotion and attention in picture processing.
Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 109(3), 373–385.
This reduced reactivity to stress is due, in part, to abnormalities

in the amygdala (Blair, 2010; Pemment, 2013). In most people,
the amygdala fires in response to aversive stimuli. It is also

involved with aversive conditioning, a form of emotional learning
(see Module 6.1 ). However psychopaths show very little
amygdala activity in these situations. Additional impairments

occur as a result of problems associated with the frontal lobes.
The frontal lobes have connections that allow them to reduce the
activity of the amygdala and other emotion-related brain regions

(see Module 11.4 ). Psychopaths, however, have less grey matter
in many frontal lobe regions (Yang et al., 2010). They also have
less efficient white-matter pathways connecting the frontal lobes

and amygdala (Craig et al., 2009). As a result, they have trouble
regulating their emotional responses (see Figure 15.4 ).
Figure 15.4 Emotion Regulation in the Brain

In healthy brains, regions of the frontal lobes (highlighted in
parts A, B, and D) are able to inhibit the activity of emotion-
related structures such as the amygdala (C). In APD, less
inhibition occurs, thus resulting in problems with the regulation
of emotions.

These explanations of psychopathy show us how these
individuals react to emotional stimuli and events. But these data
don’t explain how psychopaths can manipulate others for their
own goals. A neuroimaging experiment using prisoners in
Germany, 14 of whom were psychopaths and 14 of whom

weren’t, provides an eerie window into the mind of the
psychopath (Sommer et al., 2010). In the study, all participants
viewed cartoon drawings in which a character’s goals were
fulfilled or unfulfilled. For instance, if a character named Max

wanted to throw the ball to a character named Lena, Max’s goals
would be fulfilled when he did in fact throw the ball to Lena. His
goals would be unfulfilled if he (for some reason) threw the ball
to someone else instead. After viewing each cartoon, the
participants were asked to indicate if the main character (i.e.,

Max) would feel happy, sad, or neutral.
As would be expected from a very simple task like this, both

psychopaths and non-psychopaths answered almost all of the
items correctly. There was a large difference in the neural activity
that was occurring while they were responding, however. The
criminals who were not psychopaths showed increased brain

activity in brain areas related to empathy, indicating that they
were mentally taking the perspective of the characters. The
criminal psychopaths, on the other hand, showed increased
activity in frontal-lobe areas related to outcome monitoring and

attention. This activity was particularly high in response to the
instances in which the character’s goals were not fulfilled. These
results suggest that in situations when most people are
empathizing, criminal psychopaths are planning.

Identifying how physiology and brain function differ in
psychopaths is certainly helpful for psychologists who are trying
to understand the underlying mechanisms of these disturbing
behavioural patterns. Psychopaths, and people with APD in

general, tend to be highly resistant to psychological therapies,
making it even more critical to understand the underlying
biological processes. Also, antisocial patterns are often detectable
during childhood and adolescence, which are critical periods of

brain development. If a system of early diagnosis and treatment
could be instituted, it might be possible to more effectively
intervene before the person develops the full manifestation of the
disorder, and before they commit any harm.
Cluster C Personality Disorders:
Anxious and Fearful Behaviours
The general theme of Cluster C personality disorders is anxiety. How this
nervousness affects observable behaviours is what differentiates these
different mental illnesses.

Avoidant Personality Disorder
Most people have experienced the fear that someone will reject them.
However, this fear does not usually become a person’s most noticeable
trait. In avoidant personality disorder (AvPD) , individuals avoid social
interactions, including those at school or work, because they feel inadequate and
are deeply afraid of being rejected. People with AvPD tend to avoid trying
new things because they are afraid of embarrassing themselves. They also
tend to focus on any criticism they might receive, even if it is quite minor.
In some cases, people with AvPD will try to protect themselves against
the pain of rejection by trying to avoid experiencing emotions altogether
(Lampe & Malhi, 2018). To do this, they avoid forming social bonds.
Given the central role that fear plays in the lives of people with AvPD, it
should come as no surprise that the amygdala is one of the structures
believed to be involved in this disorder. Researchers have found that the
amygdala showed larger responses in AvPD participants than in healthy

controls when they were asked to judge the emotionality of negative
social stimuli (Denny et al., 2015). Importantly, the size of the amygdala
response during the study was positively correlated with their anxiety
levels (i.e., as amygdala activity increased, so did self-reported anxiety).

Dependent Personality Disorder
Individuals with dependent personality disorder (DPD) ¸ have an
excessive need to be taken care of, often requiring frequent assurance from others
and help with everyday decision making. People with DPD have difficulty
starting projects on their own because they lack confidence. They are also
so afraid of being abandoned that they tend to avoid disagreeing with

others.
There are some similarities between DPD and AvPD. The fear of being
rejected dominates the lives of people with these disorders. What
separates the two conditions is that people with AvPD tend to avoid
social relationships so that they will not experience rejection, whereas
individuals with DPD become excessively clingy to people in their social
network because they are afraid of being rejected (Lampe & Malhi, 2018).
Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder
The final personality disorder listed in the DSM-5 is obsessive-
compulsive personality disorder (OCPD), a disorder in which individuals
are perfectionists who are unusually focused on details, organization, and
productivity; these individuals also tend to avoid spending money or throwing
out old, worthless objects. This is a personality disorder that many people
diagnose themselves with because they see similarities between this
disorder and their own organized selves. However, OCPD is not just
being organized. It involves a maladaptive focus on details that causes
distress in their lives.
The DSM-5 provides an excellent example of OCPD that is quite relevant
to the lives of students. Someone with OCPD will make a detailed list of
what needs to be done. But she will spend so much time trying to
complete each item on the list “perfectly” that some items are not
completed. So, a lab report will be rewritten several times in an attempt

to make it perfect. As a result, the deadline for submitting an essay in
another class will be missed. People with OCPD often fail to delegate
tasks and refuse help from others because they feel that other people will
not produce “perfect” work.
OCPD also involves stingy spending habits with a focus on saving money
and not throwing away old items. As in their work life, the focus here is
on control. If they control money now, they will be prepared if a
catastrophe occurs at a later time.

There have been relatively few studies of the biology underlying OCPD.
However, Italian researchers performing research on Parkinson’s disease, a
movement disorder caused by damage to dopamine-producing brain
areas, noted that OCPD occurred in 40% of their patients (Nicoletti et al.,
2013; see Figure 15.5 ). No other personality disorder exceeded 10%.
This result suggests that this disorder is related to the neurotransmitter
dopamine.
Figure 15.5 Personality Disorders in Patients with Parkinson’s Disease
Parkinson’s disease is a movement disorder caused by damage to

dopamine systems projecting to the basal ganglia in the brain. In one
study, 40% of patients with Parkinson’s disease also had OCPD,
suggesting that this personality disorder involves dopamine-releasing
brain regions.
Source: Adapted from Nicoletti et al. (2013). Obsessive compulsive disorder and Parkinson’s
disease. PLoS ONE, 8(1), e54822.
At this point of the module, you have read about the 10 personality
disorders listed in the DSM-5. However, there is one personality-related
mental illness that has not yet been discussed. This disorder is what
happens when a person’s problems are not due to the characteristics of

their personality, but to the presence of more than one personality in the
same brain.
Dissociative Identity Disorder
Have you ever been so engaged in driving, reading a book, or playing a

game that you were totally unaware of what was going on around you?
Have you ever had difficulty determining whether an event, perhaps
some long-ago story, really happened the way you now remember it, or
whether it was a story that happened to someone else, or even a dream?

These types of experiences can be thought of as dissociative experiences,
because they are characterized by a sense of separation (dissociation)
between the person and their surroundings. Dissociative experiences may
arise while you are intensely focused on one activity, or when you drift
off while not doing anything in particular, such as daydreaming during a
long lecture. People differ in their tendencies to dissociate, but such

experiences seem completely normal. In contrast, dissociative states
caused by brain injury or psychological trauma are far from harmless.

What Is Dissociative Identity Disorder?
In a few cases, some people have such extreme dissociative experiences
that they may be diagnosed with a dissociative disorder , a category of
mental disorders characterized by a split between a person’s conscious
awareness and their feelings, cognitions, memory, and identity (Kihlstrom,
2005). These disorders can be caused by brain damage or psychological

trauma and may occur at the same time as other psychological disorders.
The best known member of this category is dissociative identity disorder
(DID) , in which a person experiences a split in identity such that they feel
different aspects of themselves as though they were separated from each other.
This can be severe enough that the person constructs entirely separate
personalities, only one of which will generally be in control at a time. This is
also sometimes referred to as multiple personality disorder .
In most cases, dissociative disorders such as DID are thought to be

brought on by extreme stress (Putnam, 1989). Some psychologists have
hypothesized that during a traumatic event such as being a victim of
violence, individuals may cope with the experience by shifting their
consciousness to a different perspective. They may go to another place in
their mind, or feel as though they are separate from their physical bodies
and are watching events happen to them as though their body was a
different person. With repeated experiences, this type of dissociation
could become an individual’s habitual way of coping with trauma, as well
as other stressful situations (van der Kolk, 1994).

Is Dissociative Identity Disorder “Real”?
DID is a very rare condition, affecting only about 1% of psychiatric
patients, and therefore only a very small fraction of 1% of the general
population (Rifkin et al., 1998). There has been longstanding controversy
surrounding whether DID is real. Many of the characteristics of different
alters could be faked by people who explicitly (i.e., on purpose) adopt

different personas, undergo hypnosis, or are simply influenced by the
expectations of psychologists. Importantly, in many of these cases, the
different alters begin to feel real to the patient (even if they began as
inventions). This makes it quite challenging for researchers attempting to
test whether DID really exists.
One approach to testing for DID is to check for memory dissociations
between alter identities. For example, in one study, patients viewed
words and pictures and were tested for recall of the stimuli either when
they were experiencing the same alter as when they learned them, or
when they were experiencing a different alter. The results suggested that
some types of learning do not transfer between alter identities (Eich et al.,
1997). This finding would suggest that the alters are truly separate.
A cause for concern related to the diagnosis of DID is the huge change in
the number of cases reported over time. By 1970, there were only 79
documented cases of DID (then referred to as multiple personality
disorder). In 1986, there were around 6000; by 1998, the number had
risen to more than 40 000 (Lilienfeld & Lynn, 2003). Also, 80% of patients
diagnosed with DID were unaware of having the disorder before starting
therapy (Putnam, 1989). These observations suggest that DID may have
its origins in the context of therapy, rather than being a response to
trauma. Also of note, the number of alters changed dramatically. In the
early decades up to the 1970s, a person would typically have only one
alter; but by the 1980s, people were identified as having many different
alters, even dozens or hundreds!
Why did the rate of DID skyrocket from 79 cases to more than 40 000
cases in fewer than three decades? This increased prevalence could

simply be a product of awareness: After professionals learned how to
identify the disorder, they could begin to diagnose it more effectively. Or,
it may be that a small subset of psychologists find the disorder compelling
and are more willing to diagnose it, so they interpret symptoms through
that framework, and may (even unintentionally) provoke dissociative
symptoms in the context of therapy (Frankel, 1993). The use of highly
suggestive techniques such as hypnosis increases the likelihood that this
is the case.
Module 15.2 Summary
15.2a Know . . . the key terminology associated with personality

and dissociative disorders.
Review Module 15.2
15.2b Understand . . . how different types of personality

disorders can affect interpersonal relationships.
Many personality disorders have negative effects on interpersonal
relationships. The Cluster A disorders (paranoid, schizoid, and

schizotypal) generally involve unusual ways of interpreting social
situations. This can lead to difficulties in accurately communicating with
other people. Cluster B disorders (borderline, histrionic, narcissistic, and
antisocial) often involve emotional intensity. These disorders often lead
to explosive relationships, with fighting and drama. Cluster C disorders
(avoidant, dependent, and obsessive-compulsive) hamper relationships
because people with these disorders are quite anxious and attempt to find
ways to control relationship (by being clingy or demanding, or by
avoiding them altogether). In each case, you can see how personality
disorders lead to social difficulties.
15.2c Apply . . . your knowledge of personality disorders to

identify which maladaptive behaviour is consistent with each
disorder.
Apply Activity
15.2d Analyze . . . the status of dissociative identity disorder as a

legitimate diagnosis.
The lack of a physical basis for the disorder and its unusual rate and
patterns of diagnosis bring about skepticism as to whether DID is real or

is manufactured, perhaps unwittingly, by the person. It is important to
find evidence for differences between alternate personalities that cannot

be faked by people or created artificially. Recent research in brain
imaging is beginning to look for different patterns of neurological activity

that could denote distinct personalities, but this work is in its infancy.
Module 15.3 Anxiety, Obsessive–
Compulsive, and Depressive
Disorders
Jeffrey T Barnes/AP/Shutterstock
15.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to anxiety, obsessive–
compulsive, and depressive disorders.
15.3b Understand . . . the different types of anxiety disorders.
15.3c Understand . . . how anxiety or depressive disorders can be self-
perpetuating.
15.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of anxiety, obsessive-compulsive, and
depressive disorders in order to identify which behavioural
symptoms are associated with each disorder.
15.3e Analyze . . . whether maladaptive aspects of specific phobias
might arise from perfectly normal, healthy behaviours.
On March 29, 2018, over 18 000 hockey fans at Buffalo’s KeyBank
Arena watched Sabres goaltender Robin Lehner’s life change. The night
before the game, Lehner was experiencing intense panic, although he
couldn’t explain exactly what was causing the unpleasant emotions. He
let the team’s trainers know that he wasn’t feeling great and might not
be able to start in net that night. But when he got to the arena to talk to
them, he decided to battle through his feelings and play. It was a

mistake. By the end of the second period, Lehner was experiencing
intense chest pain and blurred vision. He barely made it to the dressing
room after the second period. It was clear to everyone that he needed
help.
During a lengthy treatment, Lehner was diagnosed with bipolar
disorder—an illness involving alternating periods of depression and

bouts of manic energy—as well as an anxiety disorder and a substance
abuse disorder. He spent over two months at a treatment facility in
Arizona working hard to overcome his substance abuse problems and

learning to cope with his depression and anxiety. His contract with the
Buffalo Sabres had ended that season and it was unclear what his
future held. But his family supported him (and he remained in contact
with former teammates and Sabres management). In the summer of
2018, Lehner was offered a contract with the New York Islanders. He
had made it back from the edge.
Lehner described his difficulty journey in a letter to the online sports

magazine The Athletic. (The full letter is available online and is worth
reading). Being so open about his mental illness and his journey to
recovery was very challenging, particularly for someone in a “macho”
sport like hockey. He decided to discuss his problems because he thought

it would help other people who are struggling with psychological
disorders like depression and anxiety. In June 2019, he received the Bill
Masterton Memorial Trophy, an award given to the NHL player who
showed perseverance, sportsmanship, and dedication to hockey. In his

heartfelt acceptance speech, Lehner said, “I’m not ashamed to say I’m
mentally ill.” Being mentally ill does not mean you are mentally weak.
Anxiety and mood disorders are extremely common. In fact, a recent
survey of over 10 000 Ontario students in grades 7 through 12 found that

46% of females and 23% of males reported suffering from depression
and/or an anxiety disorder (Boak et al., 2015). These staggering statistics
show how prevalent these disorders are. Importantly, they also show
those suffering from anxiety or depression that they are not alone—other
people truly can understand how they feel.

Anxiety Disorders
Anxiety disorders  are a category of disorders involving fear or nervousness

that is excessive, irrational, and maladaptive. They also are among the most
frequently diagnosed disorders affecting approximately one in every eight
Canadians (Statistics Canada, 2013). They often co-occur with other
disorders, such as depression or obsessive–compulsive disorders,

substance abuse, or problematic behaviour patterns such as an excessive
need to be in control of situations.
Although occasional experiences of anxiety are normal, functional
responses to life circumstances, when anxiety becomes debilitating and
interferes with the person’s daily life, it becomes a problem. People often
attempt to cope with anxiety by limiting themselves to environments,
activities, and people that make them feel safe and secure, and by
developing rigid habits and ways of doing things that keep life predictable
and under control. These patterns evolve in order to help anxious people
manage their fear, but they also can limit people’s freedom to live their
lives as they would like.
In most people’s experience, anxiety occurs as a natural part of the fight-

or-flight response (Nesse & Ellsworth, 2009). We experience this
response as a racing, pounding heartbeat with increased respiration, as
our autonomic systems prepare our bodies for quick action. Some people
may notice a knot in the stomach and sweaty or clammy hands. These
physical changes reflect a shift in energy away from non-emergency tasks

like digestion and toward fighting or fleeing. This basic fight-or-flight
response seems to be common to all mammals, implying that it has long
been evolutionarily adaptive to have an easily triggered system that can
quickly arouse the body for action. However, living in our modern,
stressed-out society, we activate this stress response system repeatedly
throughout our days, to the point where it can become harmful to us (see
Module 14.2 ). At the same time as the fight-or-flight response, the
brain’s attentional networks are directing more resources toward the
negative, anxiety-related thoughts and stimuli than to neutral or positive
ones (Ghassemzadeh et al., 2019). This further increases an anxious

person’s tendency to focus on their own anxiety.
Varieties of Anxiety Disorders
What separates anxiety disorders from normal experiences of anxiety is
the intensity and long duration of the response. Anxiety disorders are
also distinct in that the response may not be directly connected to a
person’s current circumstances; instead, the anxiety can be free-floating.
Either way, anxiety disorders cause a great deal of emotional distress and
interfere with people’s daily lives. Of course, not all anxiety disorders are
the same. Psychologists have identified distinct patterns of experience
that have given rise to several major types of anxiety disorders.
Fight or flight . . . or freeze or faint? In addition to fight-or-flight

responses, mammals can also react by freezing—as in the “deer in the
headlights” response—or by fainting, as some will do at the sight of blood
(Bracha et al., 2004).
Darren Bridges Photography/Alamy Stock Photo, Dlewis33/Getty Images
Generalized anxiety disorder (GAD)  involves frequently elevated levels of
anxiety, generally from the normal challenges and stresses of everyday life. A
person with GAD fears disaster lurking around every corner, and may
experience symptoms ranging from difficulty sleeping or breathing to
difficulty concentrating because of intrusive thoughts. However, because
the anxiety arises out of the ongoing situations and circumstances of life,
people often have difficulty understanding their experience and cannot
identify specific reasons for which they are anxious (Turk et al., 2005). It
is also difficult to resolve the anxiety, despite attempting to control
situations and trying to attend to every detail so that nothing goes wrong.
Instead, as one detail is dealt with, the anxiety shifts to another source,
and the control-oriented person is locked into a never-ending scramble to
manage life perfectly so as to keep anxiety at bay.
Not surprisingly, people with GAD often have unstable, irritable moods
and experience difficulty concentrating. Although there are many factors
that increase the probability of developing GAD, ranging from innate,
genetic components to current habitual thinking patterns, a convergence

of stresses, such as occurs during major life changes, commonly precede
the onset of the disorder (Newman & Llera, 2011). Brain imaging studies
suggest that this sensitivity to stressors is related to the fact that the right
amygdala is larger and more responsive to emotional stimuli in people
with GAD (Makovac et al., 2016; Monk et al., 2008). These individuals
also show larger neural activity in response to making a mistake during a
task (Weinberg et al., 2010). All of these neural differences correlate with
the severity of the GAD symptoms.
Panic disorder  is an anxiety disorder marked by occasional episodes of
sudden, very intense fear. This condition is distinct from GAD because the
anxiety occurs in short segments but can be much more severe. The key
feature of this disorder is panic attacks —brief moments of extreme anxiety
that include a rush of physical activity paired with frightening thoughts. This is
what goaltender Robin Lehner experienced on the ice in front of 18 000

people. A panic attack escalates when the fear causes increased physical
arousal, and the increased physical symptoms feed the frightening

thoughts. The escalation rarely goes on for more than 10 minutes, after
which the individual will eventually return to a more relaxed state.
A substantial subset of people with panic disorder develop a recurring
fear that the panic will strike again, particularly in an environment in

which they would be exposed and unable to escape from people, such as
a shopping mall or other public space. This creates a vicious cycle in

which the fear of panicking creates more panic (see Figure 15.6 ). This
fear can result in agoraphobia , an intense fear of having a panic attack in

public; as a result of this fear, the individual may begin to avoid public settings
and increasingly isolate themself. In its most extreme forms, agoraphobia

leads individuals to stay inside their homes almost all the time.
Figure 15.6 The Vicious Cycle of Panic Attacks

Specific Phobias
In contrast to GAD, where an individual’s anxiety can be applied
to just about any situation, a phobia  is a severe, irrational fear of

a very specific object or situation. Some of the most common
phobias are listed in Table 15.2. Phobias are sometimes divided
into two broad categories: specific phobias and social phobias. A
specific phobia  involves an intense fear of a specific object,

activity, or organism. For example, the person may be afraid of
specific animals, heights, thunder, blood, or injections or other
medical procedures. Social phobias, which are also very common,
are related to interpersonal situations and relationships and are
discussed later.
Clinical researchers have identified five main categories of
specific phobias. Most studies report that approximately 5% of
the population is currently experiencing one or more of the
natural environment, situational, animal, or

blood/injection/injury phobias. Approximately 40–60% of the
population has experienced one of these phobias at one time in
their lives. The prevalence of “other types” of phobias is lower,
with approximately 1% of the population currently experiencing
this phobia and 10% having experienced at some point in their
lives.
Table 15.2 Five Main Types of Phobias
Source: Information is derived from the Centre for Addictions and Mental Health
(CAMH) (2019). Retrieved from https://www.camh.ca/en/health-info/mental-illness-
and-addiction-index/phobias.
What do we know about phobias?

Phobias often develop as a result of unpleasant or frightening
experiences; there’s nothing like getting bitten by a dog to make
a person afraid of dogs. That said, the overwhelming majority of

the triggers for phobias are objects or situations that we may need
to fear, or at least be cautious about. For example, people readily

develop phobias of spiders, snakes, heights, and drowning—
dangers that would have been important over the course of our
species’ evolution (Öhman & Mineka, 2001; see also Module
6.1 ). This tendency suggests that there may be a genetic
component to some of our specific phobias. Of course, this does

not mean that other phobias will be impossible to develop, but
rather that people are more biologically predisposed to fear

evolutionarily relevant objects or situations.
Interestingly, phobias can also develop without direct, personal
experience. Why would a person develop an extreme fear about
something that they had no personal experience with, especially

if it was something that they, realistically, were unlikely to ever
have personal experience with? It doesn’t seem rational, or

functional. In some cases, these links form through observational
learning, such as seeing vicious sharks in movies (see Module

6.3 ). In many of these cases, an initial mental link between an
object or situation and an emotion can be retrieved from memory
and thought about multiple times. We think about the object and
become afraid. This fear can, in turn, become a retrieval cue for
the object. The result of these feedback loops is that our brains
can create powerful experiences, even though they are not real in
the sense that they are not being triggered by anything actually
happening in the external world at that moment; this tendency is
known as parasitic processing (Vervaeke & Ferraro, 2012). Indeed,

this is essentially how anxiety disorders, including phobias, work!
The self-reinforcing nature of anxiety reactions leads them to

grow and become more extreme over time (Merckelbach et al.,
1996).
How can science explain why some people

are more likely than others to develop specific
phobias?
For any given individual, there are many factors that determine
whether or not a phobia develops. For example, some of the risk
factors for phobias include personality characteristics, like

shyness and temperamental inhibition, both of which are,
interestingly enough, partly genetically determined (Eaton et al.,

2018).
Scientists have been piecing together the genetic factors that

biologically predispose some people to experience more fear than
others. One of the first questions to answer is simply whether or
not the tendency to learn fear associations can be transmitted
genetically. One group of researchers attempted to answer this

using selective breeding techniques with mice. The researchers
tested a strain of mice for how easily they could learn a fear
association (an auditory tone coupled with an electrical shock).

The fear response was measured by the length of time the mice
held still—mice typically show fear by freezing in place (Ponder
et al., 2007).
By selectively breeding the most fearful mice with each other, and
the least fearful mice with each other, researchers could see
whether the fear-association response would differ across the

generations of these mice families. As Figure 15.7  shows, across
four generations, fear responses became more and more distinct,
with the third and fourth generations being very different from
each other. These patterns of behaviour diverging so

substantially in different genetic pools suggests that the fear-
based learning system is, at least in part, genetically determined.
Figure 15.7 Anxiety Levels Are Inherited in an Animal Model

Over the course of just a few generations, mice from the highly
fearful genetic strain show increasingly strong fear responses as
indicated by the height of the red bars. The blue bars represent
the responses of a typical genetic strain of mice (i.e., the control
group).
Source: From Ponder, C. A., Kliethermes, C. L., Drew, M. R., Muller, J. J., Das, K. K, . . .
Palmer, A. A. (2007). Selection for contextual fear conditioning affects anxiety-like
behaviors and gene expression. Genes, Brain and Behavior, 6: 736–749. Copyright ©
2007 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. Reproduced by permission of John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

We may question the value of this research because, on the face
of it, we don’t seem to have learned much about phobias from
studying genetic heritability of fear responses in mice. However,
understanding that genes can influence fear responses in another
mammalian species suggests that genes likely underlie our own
reactions to threatening stimuli and situations. Therefore,

behavioural genomics investigations of phobias could provide us
with important information.
A second potential criticism of this research is that it only

examines fear responses from one perspective: genetics. The
authors of those research papers would be the first to admit that
the full manifestation of a phobia involves many processes and,
therefore, would only be partially explained by a genetic
understanding. For instance, observational learning likely plays a
large role in the development and maintenance of phobias.

Seeing another mouse (or human) react with fear to specific
objects or animals would teach a young mouse (or human) that
that object or animal is to be feared. The fact that multiple factors
are involved in the development of phobias provides further
support for the use of the biopsychosocial model when

explaining behaviour.

In general, understanding causal factors better, targeting causal
mechanisms more effectively, and directly manipulating
biological systems related to fear and anxiety responses sound
like pretty good ideas. A challenge for the future is to understand
the interaction between the genetic and other levels of analysis in

order to fully develop these tools. Doing so may lead to new
treatment for a number of disorders.
Social Phobia
Thus far, our discussion of phobias has focused on fearful responses to
specific stimuli such as snakes (or snakes with knives in their mouths).
Social anxiety disorder , on the other hand, is a very strong fear of being
judged by others or being embarrassed or humiliated in public. People who
experience social anxiety deal with going out in public by developing

familiar routines and retaining control over their ability to exit
circumstances if their anxiety becomes too strong. Social anxiety
generally leads people to limit their social activities in favour of not
exposing themselves to anxiety, thus making it difficult to succeed and
live a normal life in many different ways.
Consider the day of a university student who has social anxiety:
This student always shows up to class just as it begins so he does not
have to risk awkward conversations with classmates he does not

know or, potentially worse, sitting conspicuously alone and being
unable to connect to anyone around him.
Despite being hungry, the student will not go into the cafeteria
because his roommate is not around. He cannot face the prospect of
sitting with strangers, especially without his roommate. He finds a
quiet spot near the library and gets lunch from a vending machine.
Walking across a quiet part of campus, he sees his professor
approaching. Not knowing if the professor would recognize him, he
wonders if he should say hello. Thinking about this issue makes him
so tense, he pretends to stop and read a text message to avoid eye
contact.
As you can see, the day is a series of unpleasant, tense moments in
situations that most people would find completely ordinary. It is also a
series of sacrificed opportunities as the person fails over and over again to
take advantage of chances for connection and social contact. The distress
the student feels and the degree to which he shapes his life around his
social phobia suggest that he has social anxiety disorder. Of course, to
make a formal diagnosis of this disorder, a psychologist would need to

evaluate the student’s full set of symptoms and their duration.
Obsessive–Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Until 2013, obsessive–compulsive disorder was categorized as an anxiety

disorder. In the DSM-5, this disorder was placed into its own diagnostic
category and was discussed in a separate chapter. Doing so helped
highlight the unique characteristics of a psychological disorder that
consumes so much time and energy from those who experience it.
Characteristics of OCD
Individuals with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD)  tend to be
plagued by unwanted, inappropriate, and persistent thoughts (obsessions), and
engage in repetitive, often quite ritualistic behaviours (compulsions).
Generally, obsessions and compulsions are linked together, with the
compulsive behaviour serving as a means of coping with the anxiety

produced by the obsession (see Table 15.3 ). A person who is extremely
concerned about germs and cleanliness has a common manifestation of
OCD. They may wash their hands many times each day, insist on only
touching other objects through gloves, or become extremely vigilant
about the chemicals in food and cleaning products. Alternatively,

someone who worries about starting a fire might develop compulsive
checking behaviours. Before they can leave their house, they might check
that all lamps and appliances are unplugged. They may make the rounds
twice more, ensuring that the electrical cords are secured by fasteners at
least two feet from the outlet. Finally, they might turn off the light to
leave but, to avoid the possibility that the light switch is halfway between
on and off, they might count out a series of one to seven in which they
turn the light off repeatedly, followed by one last downward swipe to
ensure the switch is fully off. Only then can they feel secure in leaving the
house.
Table 15.3
Prevalence of Symptoms in People Diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Source: Pinto et al., 2006.
Although everybody has unwanted thoughts that seem to stick in their
heads from time to time, obsessions take root and can last for a very long
time, even many years. Obviously, these thoughts tend to be distressing.
As these types of intrusive thinking patterns become more extreme and
ever-present, they increasingly interfere with the person’s life. Imagine

people who obsessively think about cleanliness and germs. Everywhere
they go in life, they encounter new microbiological terrors, forcing them

to adopt elaborate rituals for how to sufficiently clean themselves and
how to avoid making contact with germs in many different situations.

Many psychologists believe that compulsive behaviours, and the relief
they provide, give the person a feeling of control over their anxiety. They
just have to perform a very particular behaviour in order to feel that
control.
OCD and the Brain
The fact that OCD often involves a specific, repeated action suggests that
the biology underlying this mental illness is different from that of anxiety
disorders. Early studies suggested that OCD was due to a smaller
orbitofrontal cortex (the part of the frontal lobes just above the eyes).
This difference, in turn, influenced the efficiency of a brain network

including the orbitofrontal cortex, parts of the basal ganglia, and the
thalamus. This network has been called the orbitofrontal loop (Saxena et
al., 1998). The orbitofrontal loop contains structures related to key
features of OCD. The orbitofrontal cortex is involved in decision making,
the basal ganglia are involved with movement and reward, and the
thalamus is involved with taking in sensory information. This explanation
for OCD provided an important starting point for understanding this
mental illness.
More recent explanations for OCD built upon this earlier work and
attempted to explain some of the cognitive symptoms that often
accompany OCD, such as problems with working memory and
attentional control. In this model of the disorder, OCD is still associated
with a poorly performing orbitofrontal loop. But it also involves abnormal
activity in other brain regions, including the dorsolateral prefrontal
cortex, an area involved with attentional control and problem solving,
and the anterior cingulate cortex, a frontal-lobe area that is involved in
both attention and emotion (Menzie et al., 2008; see Figure 15.8 ). The
weaker responses of these difference brain areas may explain the

behaviours of many patients with OCD. Importantly, as more research is
performed, our understanding of the neural basis of OCD will become
increasingly precise.
Figure 15.8 Obsessive–Compulsive Disorder and the Brain
OCD involves impairments in two “loops” in the brain. The orbitofrontal

loop consists of the orbitofrontal cortex, basal ganglia, and thalamus. It is
related to many OCD behaviours. A second neural “loop” or network
consists of the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, anterior cingulate cortex,
and visual regions at the back of the brain. Dysfunction of this network is
associated with many of the cognitive symptoms that occur in OCD, such
as problems with working memory and attentional control.
Source: Adapted from Nakao, T., Okada, K., & Kanba, S. (2014). Neurobiological model of
obsessive-compulsive disorder: Evidence from recent neuropsychological and neuroimaging
findings. Psychiatry and Clinical Neurosciences, 68, 587-605.
Mood Disorders
Mood disorders are very common, affecting almost 10% of adults in

Canada and the United States (Health Canada, 2012; Kessler et al., 2005).
Due to a combination of biological, cognitive, and sociocultural
differences, rates of depression are twice as high among women as
among men, and three times as high among people living in poverty
(Hyde et al., 2008). There is also a genetic susceptibility to mood
disorders. In this section we discuss the two major types of mood
disorders—major depression and bipolar disorder.

Characteristics of Major Depression
Temporary feelings of sadness and depression are normal aspects of
human experience. By comparison, major depression  is a disorder
marked by prolonged periods of sadness, feelings of worthlessness and
hopelessness, social withdrawal, and cognitive and physical sluggishness. With
this definition, it should be clear that depression involves more than just
feeling sad for a long period of time. Cognitive activities such as
concentrating and making decisions are affected as well, while memories
shift toward unpleasant and unhappy events. Physiologically, affected
individuals may be lethargic and sleepy, yet also experience insomnia.
They may experience changes in appetite and the onset of digestive

problems such as constipation or stomach aches.
To fully understand depression requires considering the cumulative, daily
impact of life’s activities being interfered with by feelings of despair,
uselessness, and a lack of energy and motivation. Depression can lead to

problems piling up at work and at home, relationships being strained or
crumbling, and financial problems starting to interfere with daily life.
People deep in depression may find it almost impossible to take care of
more than the barest necessities of their lives. Their social lives suffer as
they stop returning phone calls or emails. Other people may notice and
get annoyed or have hurt feelings, which leads the depressed person to
feel even worse about themself. These examples provide a glimpse of
how depression can become such a monster.

Many people have experienced problems with a mood disorder. Those
with depression may experience extended periods of sadness and
hopelessness that have no apparent cause.
stefanolunardi/Shutterstock
Cognitive Aspects of Depression
As a depressed person begins to emphasize negative, self-defeating, and
self-critical thoughts, they develop a characteristic depressive or
pessimistic explanatory style (Abramson et al., 1978; Sweeney et al., 1986).
A person’s explanatory style involves a set of cognitive habits that are
important psychological precursors to depression. When faced with the

inevitable negative events of life, people with a pessimistic explanatory
style tend make the worst of them (instead of making the best of them),
so to speak.
For example, when something bad happens, such as the person failing at
a task or a project, they tend to make internal, personal attributions for the
event, blaming themselves for what happened (“It’s all my fault! I did
everything wrong! I messed the whole thing up!”). Depressed individuals
also tend to make stable attributions, assuming that the situation is going
to persist (“It’s always going to be like this. There is a fundamental

problem, and it’s never going to change.”). And as they spiral into
catastrophic ways of thinking, they make global attributions, expanding
the impact of the negative event into other domains or into overall life (“I
just can’t do anything right; I’m going to mess up everything”).
The pessimistic explanatory style adds stress and drains energy by
constructing a more threatening or hopeless story for the individual. As a
result, this explanatory style tends to predict a host of life outcomes from
stress and health to success and relationships. To get a sense of how this
might work in specific events during a person’s day, imagine an
individual with depression who does something as minor as losing their
keys; refer to Figure 15.9  to see the depressive explanatory style at
work. Then extrapolate that same set of patterns across many different
events throughout a person’s life, and you will get a sense of the
cumulative burden that this places on the individual.
Figure 15.9 Three Elements of the Depressive Explanatory Style
The three elements of the depressive explanatory style are internalizing,

stabilizing, and globalizing.
Genetic Vulnerability to Depression
Research at the genetic level is also uncovering factors that contribute to
the likelihood of being diagnosed with depression. Twin studies suggest
an underlying genetic risk for developing major depression (Figure
15.10 ). Additionally, behavioural genetics researchers have found that
people who inherit two copies of the short version of the 5-HTT gene are
at greater risk for developing depression, whereas those who inherit two
long copies are at a far lower risk (Caspi et al., 2003). But what is critical
here is not just which genes are inherited, but also how much stress
people experience. Figure 15.11  shows how this relationship works. As
the number of major stressful life events increases, those who inherit two
copies of the short version of this gene are far more likely to develop
depression, whereas those who inherit two long copies are buffered from
depression. People who inherit one copy of each gene (are heterozygous)
show intermediate responses to stressful events. Notice that the type of
serotonin gene inherited has no effect on depression after only one or

two major stressful events. The gene–environment interaction becomes
apparent after an accumulation of events. This interaction between a genetic
predisposition for a disorder and life stress is known as the diathesis–stress
model  of psychological disorders (diathesis is Greek for “disposition” or
“vulnerability”). It is just one of many examples of how nature and
nurture interact.
Figure 15.10 Genetic Relatedness and Major Depression

Identical (monozygotic) twins have a greater chance of both developing
major depression compared to fraternal (dizygotic) twins. Notice that the
genetic correlation is highest for female monozygotic twins.
Figure 15.11 Gene and Environment Interactions in Depression

Stress interacts with genes and influences whether someone becomes
depressed. People who inherit two copies of the short version of a gene
that codes for serotonin activity in nerve cells are at an increased risk for
becoming depressed in response to major life stressors. Those who
inherit two long copies are buffered from becoming depressed as life
stressors accumulate.
Source: Based on A Caspi et al., (2003) Influence of life stress on depression: Moderation by a
polymorphism in the 5-HTT gene, Science, 301(5631), 386–389. Reprinted with permission from
AAAS.
Biological Aspects of Depression
The diathesis-stress model of depression suggests that when people who
are genetically prone to developing depression experience life stressors,
this nature-nurture interaction will alter the activity of various brain
areas. This, in turn, will lead to symptoms of major depression. The
challenge for scientists is to identify the brain areas that are involved in
these processes.
One brain structure that has received considerable attention is the
amygdala. This structure is involved with immediate responses to
emotional stimuli (see Module 11.4 ). The amygdala also stimulates the
hypothalamus-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis, a system involved with stress
responses (see Module 14.2 ). In all of us—depressed or non-depressed
—input from the amygdala leads to an increase in the release of stress
hormones such as cortisol. In order to prevent this stress response from
getting out of control, the HPA access is inhibited by inputs from the
hippocampus and frontal lobes (Willner et al., 2013). This balance
ensures that the body will release levels of stress hormones that are
appropriate to the situation.
In the depressed brain, the amygdala is frequently overactive and
overstimulates the HPA axis (see Figure 15.12 ). As a result, larger
amounts of cortisol circulate in the body. This might seem like a minor
problem, but cortisol has an additional effect on our emotional responses:
it damages cells in the hippocampus (Raison et al., 2006). As a result, this

structure provides less inhibition to the HPA axis (Zunszain et al., 2011),
meaning that more stress hormones will be released. This leads to
increased anxiety and a negative mood. The long-term effect of this
process is that the brain becomes more sensitive to stressful events. So,
events that would not have affected stress or mood levels in the past are
now able to trigger depressive episodes in the future (Willner et al.,
2013).
Figure 15.12 Stress, Depression, and the Brain
The HPA axis is stimulated by the amygdala and inhibited by the

hippocampus and prefrontal cortex. If the amygdala is overactive, as
sometimes occurs in depression, this will upset the balance and lead to
the release of stress hormones. These hormones can damage cells in the
hippocampus, which further reduces its ability to inhibit stress responses.
Source: From Willner, P., Scheel-Krüger, J., & Belzung, C. (2013). The neurobiology of depression
and antidepressant action. Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews, 37, 2331–2371.
Damage to cells in the hippocampus has another sinister effect: it reduces

neurogenesis, the growth of new neurons. Scientists have speculated that
neurogenesis in the hippocampus can have an antidepressant effect
because it can support new learning and more flexible thinking (Castrén
& Rantamäki, 2010). Reducing neurogenesis therefore limits these helpful

processes and makes it more difficult for people to avoid the unhealthy
cognitions discussed earlier.
There are two additional brain areas that can be dysfunctional in

depression. The first is the nucleus accumbens, a brain area related to
positive rewards (see Module 5.3 ). This structure is not as active in
individuals with depression (Robinson et al., 2011). This difference may

explain why some people with this mental illness experience anhedonia, a
reduced ability to feel pleasure, and become less interested in activities

that they used to love performing. The second brain region that shows
altered activity is the medial (middle) part of the prefrontal cortex.

Individuals with abnormally high activity in this brain area are more
prone to rumination (Cooney et al., 2010). As a result, these individuals

will continue to think about negative events, even when it would be
better to move on to a different line of thinking.
Given the number of brain areas involved in depression, it is easy to
wonder how taking an anti-depressant pill can help. The answer is that
these pills influence the levels of specific neurotransmitters—serotonin,
dopamine, and norepinephrine—that are involved in depression (Liu et

al., 2018). Serotonin appears to be particularly important. People with
depression typically have lower serotonin levels in several brain regions,

including the amygdala, than non-depressed individuals. Many anti-
depressant medications block the reuptake of serotonin, which leaves

more serotonin in the synapse available to stimulate the postsynaptic
neurons. This process slowly changes the firing rates in the amygdala,
hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex so that the depressed individual is
less responsive to stress and less likely to ruminate. However, although
anti-depressants help reduce the symptoms of depression, the brains of

people who are not depressed but are taking anti-depressants still differ
from the brains of people who were not depressed in the first place
(Willner et al., 2013). That is one reason why people can still relapse into
depression after anti-depressant treatments.
Sociocultural and Environmental Influences
on Depression
Given the importance of life stressors in our discussion of depression, it is
important to identify sociocultural and environmental factors that are
associated with this psychological disorder. For example, the quality of a

person’s home neighbourhood can be a risk factor for depression
(Cutrona et al., 2006). Poor neighbourhoods are associated with higher
daily stress levels due to substandard housing and facilities, increased
crime rates, and other difficulties. Also, people living in these
neighbourhoods are more vulnerable to economic stressors such as

unemployment because they generally lack the social connections and the
educational and professional opportunities that are available to people
living in high-income areas. In addition, environmental influences, such
as poverty, can interact with social factors. For example, poor
neighbourhoods often have weaker and less supportive social networks in

the community. Lower rates of home ownership and higher rates of
turnover make it less likely that people will get to know their neighbours;
this makes long-lasting social relationships (i.e., potential sources of
support) much less common.
Although the effects of the physical and social environment on depression
are well-established, less is known about a different environment that
almost everyone now inhabits: social media. Recent research suggests,
however, that the electronic environment can influence the development

and severity of mood disorders like depression.
#Psych
Facebook Depression
Social network sites or social media are internet sites that allow
users to create profiles and share content with others. Other
people, in turn, can comment on this content. Social media
sites such as Facebook, Twitter, SnapChat, and Instagram are

among the most popular sites on the internet. In fact, in 2017,
there were over two billion active Facebook accounts (Yoon et
al., 2019). Although the ability to electronically interact with
others seems like it could help improve our sense of
community, everyone reading this knows that social media has
a dark side. Recently, psychologists have used the term
Facebook depression to refer to the fact that people who have
a great deal of exposure to social media sites are more likely to
develop mood disorders (O’Keeffe & Clarke-Pearson, 2011).
A 2019 review of the research on this topic found some
interesting trends. The severity of participants’ depressive

symptoms increased as the amount of time spent on social
media increased (Yoon et al., 2019). Depression was also

positively correlated with how frequently people check their
social media accounts. These depressive symptoms seem to

be related to the tendency to make upward social comparisons
when viewing other people’s posts. People tend to notice when

other people talk about their successes; this can lead to
feelings of envy and negative evaluations of the self (Appel et

al., 2016).
Of course, it is important to point out that the effects of

“Facebook depression” are relatively small. Statistically
speaking, electronic media have a smaller effect on depression
than genetics or your family. It is also worth remembering that

most people post content on social media that will make
themselves look better. Hopefully that thought will make

people feel less negative the next time they open up Instagram.
Although excessive social media use and depression are
associated in some individuals, we cannot conclude that social

media exposure causes depression or that depression causes
people to over-use social media. The type of manipulation

required to resolve this ambiguity through experimentation is
not feasible (or ethical).
Social media sites like Facebook and Instagram can bring

people together. But seeing other people’s “perfect” lives can
also cause individuals to feel more negatively about their own
lives.
Roberto Westbrook/Getty Images

Bipolar Disorder
Thus far in this section, we have focused on major depression, the
tendency to experience negative moods and cognition. In contrast,
bipolar disorder  (formerly referred to as manic depression) is
characterized by extreme highs and lows in mood, motivation, and energy. It
shares many symptoms with major depression—some distinguish the two

by referring to major depression as unipolar depression—but it occurs only
about a third as often (NIMH, 2008). Bipolar disorder involves depression
at one end and mania—an extremely energized, positive mood—at the
other end. Mania can take several forms: talking excessively quickly,
racing thoughts, impulsive and spontaneous decisions, or high-risk

behaviours. The experience of a manic episode can be exhilarating and
parts of it can be highly enjoyable, likely due to the altered activity in
brain networks related to reward processing (Phillips & Swartz, 2014).
However, the costs of such excessive, indiscriminate, risky behaviour can
be very high. During a manic state, individuals feel little concern about
the potential consequences of their actions. Later, as they come into a
more balanced frame of mind, they may feel a great deal of remorse and
embarrassment for their actions, which contributes to their counter-swing
into depression.
Bipolar disorder encompasses both ends of an emotional continuum, and
individuals with bipolar disorder can move from one end to the other at
different rates. Some people with bipolar disorder experience only a few
manic episodes in their lives, whereas others go through several episodes

each year. A small number of “rapid cyclers” experience very abrupt
mood swings, even within a matter of hours.
Bipolar disorder is relatively difficult to treat because some individuals
stop taking their medication when they are in their manic state. Bipolar
comes with an additional concern: the increase in energy that occurs
when people move from a depressed to a manic phase sometimes allows
individuals to act on the negative, self-defeating thoughts that they were
experiencing during their depression. Rates of suicide are slightly higher
for people with bipolar disorder than for people with major depression
(Isometsä, 2014).
Suicide
It is difficult to imagine a worse outcome for a mood disorder than
suicide. For people who have not experienced a mood disorder, it is
equally difficult to imagine how anyone could reach such a low point.
Nonetheless, suicide remains a serious public health concern. It is the
second leading cause of death (behind transportation accidents) among

Canadian youth (Public Health Agency of Canada, 2013).
There is significant variation in who is most likely to die by suicide.
Suicide is four times more likely among males than among females. Many
people believe that adolescents are particularly vulnerable to suicide, but

the highest suicide rates are actually observed among the elderly: The
suicide rate for people 65 and older is nearly 60% higher than the rate for
teens (CDC, 2010). Fortunately, research, treatment, and public
awareness have significantly reduced the suicide rate among youth since
the 1980s (Gould et al., 2003). An unfortunate exception to this trend is in

Indigenous communities, where suicide rates remain above the national
average.
Suicide often comes as a surprise to the family and friends of the victim,
although in some cases clear warning signs are evident (Table 15.4 ).
Among people in their teens and early twenties, the most significant risk
factors are mood disorders, recent and extremely stressful life events, a
family history of mood disorders (with or without suicide), easy access to
a lethal means of suicide (most significantly, firearms), and the presence

of these factors in conjunction with substance abuse (Gould et al., 2003;
Moscicki, 2001). Being the victim of bullying and social ostracism is also a
risk factor for young people (Klomek et al., 2007).
Certain behavioural signs are often reported by family and friends to have
preceded the suicide, giving us behavioural cues to look for in order to
identify people at higher risk for dying by suicide. For example, an
individual may verbally express despair and hopelessness (“I just want to
give up; Nothing matters anymore; They’ll be better off when I’m gone”),
give away personal possessions, suddenly withdraw from work or school,

or have crying spells. For a full description of common behavioural
symptoms, consult a proper checklist, or even better, be assessed by a
professional. But for now, Table 15.4  lists common warning signs of
suicide that are useful to know and watch out for, particularly for people
you know who may be at higher risk of dying by suicide.
Table 15.4 Warning Signs of Suicide

Source: American Psychological Association. (2011). Suicide warning signs. Retrieved from
www.apa.org/topics/suicide/signs.aspx
Recent research has used a novel method of identifying individuals who

are thinking about suicide: machine learning. Researchers in the United
States created machine-learning codes that allowed a computer to sort

through the verbal and non-verbal (voice inflection) characteristics of 379
participants recruited at local hospitals. The algorithm sorted people into

three groups—suicidal, mentally ill but not suicidal, and controls (i.e., no
psychological disorder present)—with an 85% accuracy rate (Pestian et

al., 2017)! Although this is just one study, it does suggest that
psychologists and psychiatrists will have additional diagnostic tools at

their disposal in the near future.
Of course, the most important factor in saving the lives of individuals

who are suicidal is the person’s own awareness of their condition. There
are many options available for those people who make the decision to
seek help.
Psych@
The Suicide Helpline
Suicide hotlines and helplines perform a vital function in

today’s society and are used by thousands of people every
single day. The first telephone suicide helplines were operated

by religious organizations and emphasized empathy and active
listening. Although this may certainly be a helpful approach, it

may not meet the needs of every caller. Modern suicide
helplines are staffed by well-trained volunteers with access to

suicide prevention specialists who can aid in effectively helping
the distressed person, assess the level of risk, and get the
appropriate medical or psychological help. Telephone crisis
responders need to flexibly adapt their way of interacting with

the caller based on the caller’s needs and where they are at
that particular moment. For example, first-time callers tend to

benefit more from an active listener who will be nonjudgmental,
compassionate, and reflective (akin to the practice of
establishing rapport with a client, which is so central in

psychological counselling). People who are repeat callers need
an ever-changing combination of many needs met, including
compassion and acceptance, empathy and understanding, and
problem-solving strategies and activities (Mishara et al., 2007;
Mishara & Daigle, 1997).
Almost all Canadian universities have emergency crisis lines.
For people aged 20 and under, the Kids Help Phone is also
available at 1-800-668-6868. Additional helpful resources can
be found at www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ and http://
suicideprevention.ca/need-help/.
Module 15.3 Summary
15.3a Know . . . the key terminology related to anxiety,

obsessive–compulsive, and depressive disorders.
Review Module 15.3
15.3b Understand . . . the different types of anxiety disorders.
Although anxiety disorders share many similarities in symptoms, they

differ in terms of what brings about the symptoms and the intensity of the
responses. The cues that trigger anxiety vary widely. In generalized

anxiety disorder, just about anything may cause anxiety, whereas in
specific phobias, an individual fears only certain objects. Likewise, the
frequency and intensity of anxious feelings can range from near-constant
worrying to brief periods of highly intense anxiety in phobias and panic
disorder.
15.3c Understand . . . how anxiety or depressive disorders can

be self-perpetuating.
Both depression and anxiety are characterized by a vicious cycle: With

anxiety, anxious or fearful thoughts can lead to physiological arousal;
physiological arousal can lead to escape and avoidance to get rid of the
immediate fear, which in turn reinforces the anxious thoughts. In
depression, a similar pattern can occur with depressed thoughts, self-
blame, and social withdrawal.
15.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of anxiety, obsessive–

compulsive, and depressive disorders in order to identify which
behavioural symptoms are associated with each disorder.
Apply Activity
15.3e Analyze . . . whether maladaptive aspects of specific
phobias might arise from perfectly normal, healthy behaviours.
To analyze this issue, we need to examine the specific symptoms that
occur in someone who has a phobia and is showing an adaptive response

(fear, anxiety) but to an inappropriate stimulus or situation. It is perfectly
reasonable and healthy to be cautious about heights, for example, in the

sense that falls can be dangerous, even life-threatening. This reaction is
maladaptive only when the fear response is so intense or out of context
that it interferes with daily life. Imagine a house painter who cannot
climb a ladder or scaffold. Unless they overcome their fear (or finds very
short houses to work on), they will have to make major adjustments to
accommodate the fear.
Module 15.4 Schizophrenia
Robert P. Matthews/Princeton University/Getty Images
15.4a Know . . . the key terminology associated with schizophrenia.
15.4b Understand . . . how different neurotransmitters affect
individuals with schizophrenia.
15.4c Understand . . . the genetic and environmental contributions to
schizophrenia.
15.4d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify key features of
schizophrenia.
15.4e Analyze . . . claims that schizophrenia is related to genius or

violent behaviour.
John Nash’s story is a remarkable one in many ways. Nash is
remarkable for being the inspiration for a movie, A Beautiful Mind. He
is remarkable for being a genius, a mathematician, and winner of a

Nobel Prize for his work on game theory (Google “Nash equilibrium”),
which has become a cornerstone of modern economics and has immense
importance in understanding society. He is also remarkable for being an
underachiever, you might say, in the sense that Nash undoubtedly did
not rise to his full potential, or anything close to it. The world was, at
least partially, deprived of one of its most brilliant minds because Nash
also had the remarkable characteristic of having schizophrenia.
In 1959, while a professor at MIT, and with his wife expecting their first
child, Nash began to experience delusional patterns of thought,

developed strange and rigid beliefs, and felt that he was playing some
sort of special role as a messenger of some kind, hearing and seeing

things that weren’t there, even thinking he was being contacted by
aliens who were leaving messages for him in newspapers. His ability to
function in daily life fluctuated greatly as he veered between his lucid,

brilliant mind and his confused, schizophrenic mind. His marriage
ended shortly thereafter, and Nash spent almost a decade in a

psychiatric institution. The voices in his head continued to haunt him
for decades. Eventually, he learned how to manage his symptoms and
function again in the world. He was able to return to work and even
remarried his wife (in 2001). He remained an active mathematician
and frequent speaker until his death in 2015, when he and his wife were
both killed in a tragic car crash.
John Nash’s case raises some central questions about schizophrenia.

What are the underlying neurological and cognitive processes that are
affected by the disorder and that produce the symptoms of a person’s

experiences? Are there ways of gaining control over symptoms, possibly
by strengthening the underlying systems? What factors contribute to

better management of schizophrenic symptoms and to slowing or
halting its long-term progression?
Nash’s story also challenges some common assumptions about
schizophrenia, such as the belief that people with schizophrenia are to

be feared because they are perpetually unstable and likely to do
random, unpredictable, even violent or dangerous things. Nash himself

managed to live a productive, quiet, peaceful, and generally happy life.
Although this isn’t always the case with schizophrenia, it is
encouraging to know that such happy endings are possible.
Schizophrenia is often regarded as one of the more devastating

psychological illnesses, and indeed, severe cases of schizophrenia involve
a shocking loss of basic functioning. Although schizophrenia is not

common (affecting only between approximately four to eight out of every
1000 adults worldwide [Bhugra, 2005; Saha et al., 2005]), it seems to be
universal, appearing in cultures all over the world and across history.
Historically, schizophrenia was viewed as an incurable form of dementia
that developed in the teens or early 20s. This is likely why it was referred
to as dementia praecox (alternatively translated as “premature dementia”
or “precocious madness”) by Emil Kraepelin in his influential textbooks in

the 1890s. It wasn’t until the 1950s that researchers began to understand
the neural systems involved in this disorder. Thanks to decades of
intensive research, we now know that schizophrenia is a complex illness

caused by a number of genetic, biological, and social factors.
Symptoms and Types of Schizophrenia
There are many popular but misguided beliefs regarding schizophrenia.

For example, people believe that individuals with schizophrenia have
more than one personality. This is an unfortunate side effect of the name
schizophrenia, which implies a splitting of consciousness. Although this
term, which was coined by Paul Eugen Bleuler in 1908, originally meant a
split between emotion and different thought processes, it was often
misinterpreted by the public to imply split personalities (Peralta &
Cuesta, 2011). However, the presence of multiple personalities is a
completely different disorder known as Dissociative Identity Disorder
(DID; see Module 15.2 ).
Schizophrenia  is now defined as a brain disease that causes the person to
experience significant breaks from reality, a lack of integration of thoughts and
emotions, and problems with attention and memory. Symptoms may begin to
occur and escalate very gradually, remaining largely unnoticeable for a
long time before family members start to perceive a pattern. In other
cases, however, symptoms can begin and escalate very rapidly. There is,
therefore, a very wide range of possible trajectories that the disease may
follow over time. Every case of schizophrenia is its own journey.

Stages of Schizophrenia
In most cases of schizophrenia, there are three distinct phases:
prodromal, active, and residual. These tend to occur in sequence,
although individuals may cycle through all three many times. In the
prodromal phase , people may become easily confused and have difficulty
organizing their thoughts, they may lose interest and begin to withdraw from
friends and family, and they may lose their normal motivations, withdraw from
life, and spend increasing amounts of time alone, often deeply engrossed in their
own thoughts. It is not uncommon for other people to get upset as a result
of these behaviours, assuming the person is lazy or otherwise being
irresponsible. In the active phase , people typically experience delusional

thoughts, hallucinations, or disorganized patterns of thoughts, emotions, and
behaviour. This phase usually transitions into the residual phase , in
which people’s predominant symptoms have disappeared or lessened
considerably, and they may simply be withdrawn, have trouble concentrating,
and generally lack motivation.
There is huge variety in terms of the progression of schizophrenia. Some
people cycle through the three stages only a couple of times in their lives,
whereas others may cycle repeatedly. Typically, the severity of the
withdrawal in the residual phase tends to increase with repeated
episodes, and their ability to function normally seems to decrease.
The symptoms of schizophrenia are most pronounced in the active phase
of the disease, but you must always remember that the transitions
between these phases will not be perfectly clean. There may be times
when symptoms do not occur during the active phase. There may also be
times when they do occur during the residual phase. Additionally, the
person with schizophrenia may experience short-term resurgences of
symptoms, often triggered by stressful periods or episodes in their lives.

Symptoms of Schizophrenia
Schizophrenia is associated with a number of symptoms. A key
distinction is made between positive and negative symptoms (Harvey &
Walker, 1987). Positive symptoms  refer to the presence of maladaptive
behaviours, such as confused and paranoid thinking, and inappropriate
emotional reactions. In contrast, negative symptoms  involve the absence

of adaptive behaviour, such as absent or flat emotional reactions, lack of
interacting with others in a social setting, and lack of motivation.
One common positive symptom is the presence of hallucinations ,
alterations in perception, such that a person hears, sees, smells, feels, or tastes
something that does not actually exist, except in that person’s own mind. These
experiences are often accompanied by delusions , beliefs that are not
based on or well integrated with reality. For example, people may believe
that they are someone famous, or that they have a divine purpose. They
may believe there is special significance or hidden messages or codes in

the media that they encounter. They might believe that everybody
despises them, or that they are being constantly followed and that their
life is in danger. Or they might believe they can control the wind or
communicate telepathically with birds. Many of these symptoms are
examples of delusions of grandeur, a belief that an individual is more
important or talented than they really are. For example, consider the
following personal account of Kurt Snyder, who wrote a book about his
experiences with schizophrenia during college:

I thought about fractals and infinity for many years. I always told myself I was on the verge of
discovery, but I simply had to think a little bit harder about it. I just wasn’t thinking hard
enough. The reality is that the problems I was trying to solve were far beyond my mental
abilities, but I didn’t recognize this fact. Even though I had no evidence to substantiate my
self-image, I knew in my heart that I was just like Einstein, and that someday I would get a
flash of inspiration. I didn’t recognize the truth—that I am not a genius. I kept most of my
mathematical ideas to myself and spoke to very few people about them. I was paranoid that
someone else would solve the riddle first if I provided the right clues. (Snyder, 2006, p. 209)
Source: Snyder, K. (2006). Kurt Snyder’s personal experience with schizophrenia.
Schizophrenia Bulletin, 32 (2), 209–211. Copyright © 2006 Oxford University Press. Reprinted
by permission.
Kurt Snyder began experiencing schizophrenia in college. Me, Myself, and

Them is his personal account of living with schizophrenia.
Provided by Kurt Snyder, author

In addition to hallucinations and delusions, individuals with
schizophrenia often have disorganized behaviour ; this term describes
the considerable difficulty people with schizophrenia may have completing the
tasks of everyday life—cooking, taking care of their hygiene, socializing.
They have great difficulty organizing their behaviour enough to complete

tasks before getting distracted by other thoughts or things to do. This
makes it difficult to follow a project, or even a train of thought, to

completion, as their minds may jump from thought to thought
uncontrollably.
The negative symptoms of schizophrenia can make it difficult to form and
maintain social connections. These individuals typically have difficulty

reasoning about social situations and show relatively poor social
adjustment (Done et al., 1994). In addition, their emotional expressions

and ability to react to the emotions of others may be impaired (Penn &
Combs, 2000). For example, people with schizophrenia may maintain a

neutral mask-like expression on their faces and show little response to
smiles or other expressions from people around them. As a result, the

person with schizophrenia generally is not as socially competent and
strikes others as a little “odd”; this can set social feedback processes in
motion (such as others then avoiding eye contact or extended social

interactions with the schizophrenic person). This, in turn, may cause the
person with schizophrenia to become aware of this negative social

feedback, to feel self-conscious and uncomfortable, and to be more likely
to socially withdraw in the future.
Another type of negative symptom of schizophrenia is catatonia, a

movement disorder in which an individual does not move and rigidly
remains in a pose for a lengthy period of time. The patient is often

unresponsive to doctors, family, or other patients during these catatonic
states. The fact that the initiation of movement—which involves the
neurotransmitter dopamine—is sometimes a feature of schizophrenia

suggested to researchers that this brain chemical is likely involved in this
psychological disorder.
Individuals with schizophrenia experience several additional problems
with cognitive functioning. These range from basic, low-level
physiological responses, such as excessive eye blinking in response to

stimulation (Perry et al., 2002), to more complex cognitive skills, such as
those required for standardized achievement tests—test scores tend to
drop during adolescence as the disorder begins and progresses (Fuller et
al., 2002). Schizophrenia can also involve deficits in working memory that
connect to symptoms associated with schizophrenia, such as the inability
to keep track of a train of thought, organize the sequence of a
conversation, and handle multiple tasks at once. Working memory
deficits may partially explain the disorganized thoughts and speech
characteristic of schizophrenia (Park et al., 1999).

Common Subtypes of Schizophrenia
As you can see, numerous symptoms accompany schizophrenia. For some
individuals, the symptoms cluster into different patterns, leading mental
health professionals in the past to identify subtypes of the disorder. These
subtypes were dropped from official practice in the DSM-5 (released in
2013), as they are artificial categorizations of complex behaviour patterns,

and are often not reliably measurable. But these terms are still commonly
used and are therefore worth being aware of:
Paranoid schizophrenia : Symptoms include delusional beliefs that one
is being followed, watched, or persecuted, and may also include delusions of

grandeur or the belief that one has some secret, insight, power, or some other
characteristic that makes one particularly special.
Disorganized schizophrenia : Symptoms include thoughts, speech,
behaviours, and emotions that are poorly integrated and incoherent. People
with disorganized schizophrenia may also show inappropriate,

unpredictable mannerisms.
Catatonic schizophrenia : Symptoms include episodes in which a
person remains mute and immobile—sometimes in bizarre positions—for
extended periods. Individuals may also exhibit repetitive, purposeless
movements.
People who experience catatonic schizophrenia will remain immobile,
even if in a bizarre position, for extended periods of time.
Grunnitus Studio/Photo Researchers, Inc./Science Source
These terms are also frequently used in popular culture when discussing
schizophrenia. However, as you will read, movies and the media don’t
always portray schizophrenia accurately.
Watch Living with a Disorder

Myths in Mind
Schizophrenia Is Not a Sign of Violence or of Being a “Mad
Genius”
Although schizophrenia is a widely recognized term, it is also

widely misunderstood. As was mentioned in the opening story
about John Nash, people may believe that schizophrenia
makes people violent or dangerous, or causes people to have

different personalities. People also commonly believe that the
“madness” of schizophrenia is associated with being a genius.

It can be difficult to dispel such myths, especially with high-
profile cases that fit so well with these common beliefs; cases
like John Nash or Ted Kaczynski (aka the “Unabomber”).
Similar to Nash, Kaczynski was a very bright mathematician

who seemed to slip into schizophrenic delusions. In contrast to
Nash, however, Kaczynski’s delusions led him to take violent

actions against what he perceived to be the evil system of our
society. This earned him his Unabomber nickname, because he

sent bombs through the mail to prominent researchers at
various universities.
The truth is that schizophrenia is not associated with genius
but, in fact, with cognitive deficits. In contrast to Ted Kaczynski

and John Nash, most people with schizophrenia score slightly
below average on IQ tests (Woodberry et al., 2008). Also, people

with schizophrenia are only rarely violent. In these cases, other
factors such as substance abuse usually play a big role. People

with schizophrenia do not have a propensity for violence that is
meaningfully different from the rest of the population (Douglas

et al., 2009; Fazel et al., 2009), and are likely to isolate
themselves and end up in situations in which they are likely to
be harmed. In fact, it’s the people with schizophrenia who

should perhaps fear the rest of society. People with mental
illnesses are approximately 10 times more likely to be victims of
crime than the rest of the population (Teplin et al., 2005).
Movies and the media often portray people with schizophrenia

as either violent or as unstable geniuses, such as Ted Kaczynski
(the “Unabomber”). In reality, people with schizophrenia are
more likely to be victims than aggressors in our society.
Mug Shot/Alamy Stock Photo

Explaining Schizophrenia
So far, we have described schizophrenia based on its psychological and

physical characteristics. Researchers are also very curious about the
underlying sources of these characteristics and have employed a wide
range of techniques to discover what causes schizophrenia. Through the
application of the biopsychosocial model, a holistic understanding of

schizophrenia is emerging.
Genetics
Studies using twin, adoption, and family history methods have shown
that as genetic relatedness increases, the chance that a relative of a
person with schizophrenia will also develop the disorder increases (see
Figure 15.13 ). For example, if one identical twin has schizophrenia, the
other twin has a 25% to 50% chance of developing it. This rate is
significantly higher than the 10% to 17% rate found in dizygotic
(fraternal) twin pairs (Gottesman, 1991).
Figure 15.13 Genetic Influences for Schizophrenia

The more genetic similarity an individual has to a person with
schizophrenia, the more likely that he or she will also develop the
disorder.
For decades, behavioural genetic scientists have known that genes
contribute to schizophrenia, but they have not identified the specific
genes that are involved. Data from the Human Genome Project have
provided researchers with a powerful tool in their search for the genes
linked with schizophrenia. A recent study of 37 000 people with
schizophrenia and 113 000 control participants identified 108 genes that
are associated with this disorder (Ripke et al., 2013)! However, this study
also noted something very interesting: a number of these genes were also
associated with other psychological disorders, suggesting that some genes
are related to neurodevelopmental impairments in general while others

may be related to specific disorders (Owen & O’Donovan, 2017).
Although scientists are making incredible advances in their quest to
understand the genetics of schizophrenia, much more research is needed
before we will know which combinations of genes are associated with the
various symptoms of this psychological disorder.

Schizophrenia and the Nervous System
One important neurological characteristic of people with schizophrenia is
the size of the brain’s ventricles (the fluid-filled spaces in the core of the
brain). People with schizophrenia have ventricles that are 20% to 30%
larger than people without schizophrenia (see Figure 15.14 ; Murray et
al., 2017). The reason for these larger ventricles is a loss of brain matter,
particularly in limbic system structures such as the amygdala and
hippocampus (Grace, 2016; Wright et al., 2000). This thinning of brain
structures can amount to a 2% reduction of total brain volume.
Figure 15.14
Brain Volume in One Monozygotic Twin with Schizophrenia and Another without Schizophrenia
The brains of two genetically identical individuals, one affected with
schizophrenia and the other unaffected, are shown here. The arrows
point to the spaces created by the ventricles of the brain. Note the
significant loss of brain matter in the affected individual.
Courtesy of E. Fuller Torrey and Daniel Weinberger
The brains of people with schizophrenia are not just different in size; they
also function differently. People with schizophrenia show lower levels of
activity in their frontal lobes, both in resting states and when engaged in
cognitive tasks, suggesting that these brain regions are not functioning at
an optimal level (Hill et al., 2004). This lower frontal lobe activity likely
explains why individuals with schizophrenia have problems controlling
their attention and putting information into a logical narrative (Fan et al.,
2018).
Changes in brain chemistry are also evident in schizophrenia. People with
schizophrenia have an increased rate of firing in dopamine-releasing
cells. Some of this over-activity is in a part of the brain known as the
basal ganglia, which is involved in a number of functions including

reward responses. As a result of this firing, stimuli that should be
meaningless are interpreted as being quite noteworthy (Heinz &

Schlagenhauf, 2010). Excess firing of these dopaminergic cells can
produce the types of positive symptoms associated with schizophrenia,

such as hallucinations and delusions. However, dopamine cannot be the
whole neurochemical story, as it is unrelated to negative symptoms such

as flattened emotion and lack of speech (Andreasen et al., 1995).
Glutamate, another neurotransmitter, appears to be underactive in certain

brain regions, including the hippocampus and the frontal cortex.
Glutamate is the brain’s primary excitatory neurotransmitter, so a

reduction of glutamate in those areas would correspond to a reduction of
their functioning. Improper functioning of glutamate systems in the brain

is a likely cause of negative symptoms in schizophrenia (Uno & Coyle,
2019). Interestingly, glutamate receptor activity is also inhibited by the
drug PCP (angel dust), which in high doses can cause symptoms that
mirror those of schizophrenia.
Psychologists have long noted that individuals who are being treated with
antipsychotic drugs that block dopamine tend to be heavy smokers. One
possible reason is that nicotine helps to stimulate the release of additional
dopamine. As a result, heavy nicotine use stimulates the dopamine-rich
reward and cognitive centres of the brain (Winterer, 2010).
ImageBroker/Alamy Stock Photo
The fact that schizophrenia has been linked with differences in genes,
neurotransmitters, and the volume of brain structures suggests that the

mechanisms underlying this disorder are not simple. Indeed, as you will
read in the next section, one of the best-known hypotheses about the
cause of schizophrenia suggests that it involves an interaction between an
external agent (possibly a virus) and the brain at some of its earliest
stages of development.
The Neurodevelopmental Hypothesis
Schizophrenia is obviously a complex disorder, and no single
explanation has been able to account for all the variations in its
symptoms, severity, and duration. One of the leading
perspectives on the causes of schizophrenia approaches the
disorder from a biopsychosocial perspective, emphasizing the
interaction between factors at different levels of analysis.
What do we know about the

neurodevelopmental hypothesis?
People who develop schizophrenia often exhibit identifiably
abnormal patterns of behaviour early on. Indeed, the
neurodevelopmental hypothesis  suggests that the adult

manifestation of what we call “schizophrenia” is the outgrowth of
disrupted neurological development early in the person’s life. In fact,
schizophrenia may even be set in motion by environmental
factors while the person is still in the womb, such as exposure to

flu viruses.
One intriguing research finding is that people with schizophrenia
are more likely to have been born during winter months (Tochigi
et al., 2004). One hypothesis for this trend is that winter births
carry this higher risk because the onset of the flu season, in the
fall, coincides with the latter part of the first trimester, in which
the fetus’s brain is developing at an enormous rate. Maternal
exposure to the influenza virus at such a critical time of
neurological development is argued to be one contributing factor
to schizophrenia. More generally, environmental factors that
cause stress for the mother while pregnant, such as losing her
spouse or experiencing trauma such as war or violence, can
impact fetal development. The massive release of stress
hormones during such difficult events has a variety of
neurological and cognitive effects on the developing fetus, which
could increase the risk of developing schizophrenia (Brown &

Derkits, 2010; King et al., 2010).
How can science test the neurodevelopmental

hypothesis?
The neurodevelopmental hypothesis draws from research on
genetic and prenatal factors. However, the developmental

emphasis of the hypothesis gains strength from behavioural
evidence collected during childhood and adolescence, which
shows that people who develop schizophrenia showed warning
signs when they were very young. For example, when
psychologists viewed home movies of infants and children who

subsequently developed schizophrenia, they noted that these
children showed some unusual motor (i.e., movement) patterns,
primarily on the left side of the body, such as jerky, repeated, and
unnecessary arm movements (Walker et al., 1994). These motor
patterns were not present in their siblings, who did not have
schizophrenia. This evidence suggests that a precursor of
schizophrenia is present very early in life, setting in motion the

processes and shaping the patterns of brain activity that lead
further into the development of the disorder.
In adolescence, psychologists can detect the schizophrenia
prodrome, a collection of characteristics that resemble mild forms

of schizophrenic symptoms. For example, a teenager might
become increasingly socially withdrawn and have some difficulty
with depression and anxiety. But the most telling problems

include experiences that resemble somewhat mild hallucinations
and delusions. As one example, a teen might say, “I seem to keep

hearing my mother calling my name before I fall asleep, even
when I know she isn’t home. It is strange . . .” (Walker et al.,

2010, p. 206).

An obvious question that arises from the previous section is why
are these two specific periods of development—the first trimester
of gestation (pregnancy) and adolescence—linked with

development of schizophrenia? What makes these two periods
special? It turns out that both of these periods are associated with
growth spurts for the prefrontal cortex, the regions of the frontal
lobe involved with higher cognitive functions such as decision

making, attentional control, and problem solving (Selemon &
Zecevic, 2015). During the first trimester of fetal development,
the fetal brain grows at an astonishing rate as new cells are born
and different sections of the brain, such as the brainstem and
midbrain, begin to develop. By the eighth week of development,

the group of neurons that will eventually be the prefrontal cortex
have developed. Animal-based research has shown that maternal

infections during the first trimester lead to smaller cortical surface
areas in this region (Stolp et al., 2011).
During adolescence, the frontal lobes go through another
important change. In addition to growing in volume, the frontal

lobes also lose a large number of synapses. This might seem
strange at first, but this pruning removes rarely used synapses so

that neural resources can be directed to the more frequently used
ones. In other words, your brain becomes more efficient. In

adolescents who will develop schizophrenia, too much synaptic
pruning occurs. Thus, they have fewer connections between
neurons, which leads to a smaller and less powerful prefrontal

cortex (Selemon et al., 1995).

By identifying prenatal risk factors and developmental patterns
related to schizophrenia, it may be possible to alter the
progression of the disorder. As part of this process, researchers

will need to improve our understanding of the types of emotional
support pregnant women need in order to reduce the effects of
stress hormones on the fetus. A long-term goal of these related
research programs would be to prevent schizophrenia from
developing, or at least to control its severity (McGlashan et al.,

2006; McGorry et al., 2002). To accomplish these goals,
researchers will have to rely on all levels of explanation: genetics,
prenatal influences, brain structure and function, and
psychosocial factors.
Thus far, you have read about genetic and neural explanations for
schizophrenia. These factors obviously interact, with genes

influencing how and when different brain areas will develop. But
genes can’t explain everything—at least not on their own. Think
back to the twin studies: if one identical twin has schizophrenia,
the likelihood of the other identical twin also having this disorder
is 25% to 50%. So, although genetics can explain some causes of
schizophrenia, there must be social and environmental factors
that explain the remaining 50% to 75% of the variability.
Although researchers have not identified all of the potential
factors influencing the development of schizophrenia, there are

several that are worth discussing.
Environmental and Social Influences on
Schizophrenia
The period of fetal development and birth contains a number of potential
triggers for schizophrenia (see Figure 15.15 ). In addition to the risk that
maternal infections and viruses discussed above, there are a number of

other factors that can make schizophrenia more likely. Studies of
populations that were experiencing famines found that if a mother
experienced malnutrition during pregnancy, there was an increased
likelihood of the child developing schizophrenia (Susser et al., 1996).
Additionally, difficult births in which the umbilical cord limits oxygen to

the baby were also linked to the later development of this disorder
(Cannon et al., 2002).
Figure 15.15 Social and Environment Factors Influencing the Development of Schizophrenia
Schizophrenia is caused by genes interacting with a number of different
social and environmental factors. Some of these factors influence the
development of the fetal brain, particularly during the first trimester of
development. Other factors can influence the very sensitive period of
adolescence, when synaptic pruning in the prefrontal cortex leads to the
development of the efficient adult brain.
Adapted from Figure 5 from Selemon & Zecevic (2015). Page 7.
Childhood is also associated with a number of risk factors. Head injuries
occurring prior to age 10 also put people who are genetically vulnerable
to schizophrenia at greater risk for developing the disorder (AbdelMalik
et al., 2003). Also, being raised in an environment where psychosocial
stressors (e.g., interpersonal conflict, social isolation, poverty) are more
abundant, such as modern urban environments, puts individuals at

greater risk for developing schizophrenia (Henssler et al., 2019), because
schizophrenic episodes are often triggered by acutely stressful

circumstances. Neuroscientists suggest that the frequent feelings of social
defeat that occur in stressful urban environments—particularly for

immigrant and minority groups—changes the sensitivity of the basal
ganglia’s reward system. This results in altered dopamine release, one of
the key features of schizophrenia (Selten et al., 2013).
Closely related to the impact of stress on the development of

schizophrenia is the role of social support. Research has shown that the
progression of schizophrenia is strongly related to the way in which

family members support and treat the person with schizophrenia.
Families high in emotional expressiveness (EE) tend to be overly critical and

controlling, whereas families low in EE tend to be more supportive,
accepting, and non-judging (O’Driscoll et al., 2019). As several teams of

researchers have found, there are large differences between people with
schizophrenia who live in high-EE versus low-EE families. People with
schizophrenia are three to four times more likely to experience a relapse

of their symptoms within a nine-month period if they live in high-EE
families (Brown et al., 1972; King & Dixon, 1999). This trend has led to
the creation of therapeutic interventions designed to help families reduce
their negative behaviours and to learn to be more supportive.
The final environmental factor that we will discuss is marijuana. Some

research suggests that a small proportion of people who use marijuana
develop psychotic symptoms, possibly because the drug interacts with the
genes involved in schizophrenia (Caspi et al., 2005). Indeed, most
researchers now agree that frequently smoking marijuana increases the
likelihood of developing schizophrenia, particularly if the marijuana is of

a potent, synthetic variety (Marconi et al., 2016). But this doesn’t mean
that anyone who lights up is going to develop schizophrenia. Rather it
means that if someone is has genes that make them more likely to develop
schizophrenia, then smoking marijuana—or experiencing a difficult birth
or psychosocial stressors or a head injury—will make it more likely that
these genes will be expressed. Thus, schizophrenia is an interaction

between genes and the environment—nature and nurture.
Culture and Schizophrenia
In Module 15.1 , we introduced the topic of cultural perceptions of
mental illness. Differing cultural perspectives are strongly evident when it
comes to schizophrenia. For example, ethnicity influences the types of
experiences that individuals report having. A U.S.-based study found that
Anglo-Americans tend to focus on the mental experiences of the disorder,

such as disorganized thinking and emotions. In contrast, Mexican
Americans focus more on how schizophrenia affects the body, such as by
producing tension or tiredness. They conceive of the disorder as any
other form of illness, rather than viewing mental disorders as a separate
type of condition (Weisman et al., 2000).
Beliefs about mental illness are linked to varying cultural views of the
world (McGruder, 2004). Many people throughout the world, such as the
Swahili of Tanzania, believe that what we call schizophrenia is really a
sign that spirits have invaded or are communicating with the body. In
some cultures, it is thought that the person is being gifted with the ability
to communicate in some fashion with the spirit world. These individuals
are given important status in the community—virtually the opposite to the
treatment of schizophrenia in Western culture.
As you think about the different ways that a person with schizophrenia
would be treated in these different cultural contexts, and the presumed
sophistication of our scientific understanding of what we call
schizophrenia, consider one surprising fact—the long-term outcomes for

people who have symptoms that would be diagnosed as schizophrenia
are actually better in developing countries and traditional cultures that
have been minimally influenced by the Western medical system (Harrison
et al., 2001). This shows us that regardless of the symptoms of a disorder,
people benefit from being treated with kindness and compassion.

Module 15.4 Summary
15.4a Know . . . the key terminology associated with

schizophrenia.
Review Module 15.4
15.4b Understand . . . how different neurotransmitters affect

individuals with schizophrenia.
Part of how we can explain schizophrenia is by identifying the
neurotransmitters that are affected by this disorder. Increased dopamine
levels are associated with the positive symptoms of schizophrenia, such
as having hallucinations or delusions. Reduced levels of glutamate, an
excitatory neurotransmitter, have been linked with the negative
symptoms of schizophrenia, such as flat emotional reactions and a lack of
motivation.
15.4c Understand . . . the genetic and environmental

contributions to schizophrenia.
The neurodevelopmental hypothesis claims that at least some
neurological abnormalities are present at birth, although it does not state
to what degree these abnormalities are genetic or environmental.
Nevertheless, some research suggests that prenatal exposure to the flu or
to significant amounts of stress hormones are risk factors for this type of
mental illness. Genetics seem to play a role, as twin studies show that if
one identical twin has schizophrenia, the other has a 50% chance of
developing the disorder—a substantial increase over the 1% occurrence

rate in the general population.
15.4d Apply . . . your knowledge to identify key features of

schizophrenia.
Apply Activity
15.4e Analyze . . . claims that schizophrenia is related to genius
or violent behaviour.
As you have read, some high-profile cases highlight people with
schizophrenia who are intellectually brilliant. In reality, however,

research tells us that the average intelligence of people with
schizophrenia is similar to, although slightly lower than, the norm.

Similarly, the belief that schizophrenia leads to violence derives from a
small group of high-profile examples. In truth, there does not seem to be
an increased risk of violence associated with schizophrenia alone.

Chapter 16
Therapies
16.1 Treating Psychological Disorders
Mental Health Providers and Settings
Evaluating Treatments
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Can Self-Help
Treatments Be Effective?
Barriers to Psychological Treatment
Module 16.1 Summary
16.2 Psychological Therapies
Insight Therapies
Behavioural, Cognitive, and Group Therapies
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Virtual Reality
Therapies
Module 16.2 Summary
16.3 Biomedical Therapies
Drug Treatments
Working the Scientific Literacy Model: Is MDMA an Effective
Treatment for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)?

Technological and Surgical Methods
Module 16.3 Summary

Module 16.1 Treating Psychological
Disorders
Ambrophoto/Alamy Stock Photo
16.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with mental health
treatment.
16.1b Understand . . . the major barriers to seeking help for
16.1c Understand . . . the arguments for and against involuntary
treatment.
16.1d Apply . . . your knowledge to suggest what approach to therapy
is likely most appropriate for a given situation.
16.1e Analyze . . . whether self-help options, such as popular books,
are a useful therapy option.
“The Power of Vulnerability” has become one of the most popular TED
talks ever given. This simple, from-the-heart talk involves a brilliant,

personable, and completely vulnerable woman talking about how she
went to a therapist because she felt like she was having a breakdown.
Brené Brown’s talk courageously exposed her personal struggle with
feelings of shame and “not being good enough” to millions of TED
viewers. Her deeply moving story is one that many people can relate to.
Brown’s crucial message was that it is normal and indeed healthy for a
person to go to a therapist to deal with issues like these. By being so
open about her experiences, she sets an example for the rest of us that a
key step toward overcoming the stigma surrounding mental illness and
therapy is to talk about it.
Western culture’s strong individualistic emphasis and do-it-yourself

mentality fosters the attitude that people need to be independent and
“strong.” Mental illness is often seen as a sign of weakness, and negative
stigma surrounds therapists who are sometimes stereotyped as “quacks”

or “shrinks,” lost in psycho-babble and out of touch with reality.
It is therefore worth paying attention when public events like Brown’s
TED talk, or public awareness campaigns like Bell’s “Let’s Talk,” show
the public that therapy is a part of many people’s lives. Perhaps the
stigma associated with mental illness and therapy is finally starting to
dissipate.
In Chapter 15 , we described some of the psychological disorders that
can affect people. Disorders touch many people’s lives, either directly
(i.e., the individuals themselves) or indirectly via friends, family,
neighbours, or coworkers. Clearly, there is a need for effective

psychological treatments. In fact, each year in Canada, approximately
10% of the population seeks some form of treatment for mental health
issues (Lesage et al., 2006).Importantly, not all treatments are the same.
As you will read in the first part of this module, there are several types of
mental health providers, each with a specific type of training.
Mental Health Providers and Settings
A wide variety of treatment settings are available for people in need of

mental health care. The type of treatment people receive depends on
several factors, including their age, the type and severity of the disorder,
and the existence of any legal issues and concerns that coincide with the
need for treatment. Mental health services include inpatient care,

outpatient office visits, the use of prescription drugs, attending therapy
sessions, and taking part in support groups. Different types of care tend to
be delivered by professionals with different training and skill sets.

Mental Health Providers
In popular culture, the terms psychologist and psychiatrist are often (and
incorrectly) used as if they mean the same thing. In fact, there are some
major differences between the two, and even within each category there
can be huge differences in how treatments are provided.
Clinical psychologists are perhaps the best-known type of psychologist in
the mental health field. Clinical psychologists  have obtained PhDs
(typically five years of graduate school plus a one-year internship in a clinical
setting) and are able to formally diagnose and treat mental health issues ranging
from the everyday and mild to the chronic and severe. Counselling
psychologists , on the other hand, are mental health professionals who
typically work with people who need help with more common problems such as
stress and coping; issues concerning identity, sexuality, and relationships;
anxiety and depression; and developmental issues such as childhood trauma.
Counselling psychologists may have either a Master’s or PhD degree and,

like clinical psychologists, complete a great deal of clinical training before
establishing their own practice. Practitioners of clinical and counselling
psychology work in many capacities and settings. They may provide
individual or group therapy in an office or institution such as a hospital,
or they may conduct psychological testing and research. Other people
with different levels of training and background also conduct therapy. For
example, clinical social workers and psychiatric nurses conduct therapy to
help people cope with psychological problems.

Psychiatrists  are medical doctors who specialize in mental health and who
are allowed to diagnose and treat mental disorders through prescribing
medications. Most psychiatrists complete an undergraduate degree, four
years of medical school, and a five-year residency (similar to an
apprenticeship) before become independent clinicians. It is important to
note that many psychiatrists understand the usefulness of the
biopsychosocial perspective and perform psychological therapy in
addition to prescribing medications, or work closely with other
professionals who provide such services. Historically, in Canada and most
U.S. states, clinical psychologists have not been allowed to prescribe

medications, so in many settings psychologists and psychiatrists work
together, combining medications with psychological therapies. Like
clinical psychologists, psychiatrists work in a variety of settings, but they
are most frequently found in hospitals and other institutional settings.

Inpatient Treatment and
Deinstitutionalization
Throughout much of human history (although certainly not in all cultural
settings), people experiencing severe disorders—such as the profound
disturbances associated with schizophrenia—were often separated from

society and confined to an asylum. The aim was not to treat these
individuals because there was no hope that they would get better. Rather,
the goals were to protect the public and to provide basic care for
individuals whose families could not do so (Wright, 1997).
The creation of institutions for housing the mentally unwell began in the
15th century due to rapidly growing European populations and mass
migration to cities. These trends tended to disrupt the normal family and
community traditions that would have provided structure to individuals’
lives and the bonds of collective responsibility that people would have
had for the mentally ill members of their families. The institutions began
on a rather small scale. For example, in 1403, St. Mary of Bethlehem, a
hospital in London, England, admitted six patients with mental issues
(Shorter, 1997). However, physicians at that time did not know how to
treat psychological disorders. In many cases, the goal was to simply keep
the patients away from the general public. In other cases, patients were
put in restraints and underwent physical treatments that were quite
painful. The hospital’s treatment of these patients eventually became so
awful—and the hospital was so chaotic—that bedlam (a mispronunciation

of Bethlehem) began to be used to refer to chaos and madness in general
(Foucault, 1975).
Today, some people with severe mental disorders reside in an institution

or hospital that specializes in mental health care. These settings are
dramatically different than they were just a few decades ago, when they
were called “insane asylums” and other unfortunate names.
Jerry Cooke/The LIFE Images Collection/Getty Images
By the end of the 19th century, psychology was gaining credibility as a

science, and asylums were built both to house the mentally ill and to
attempt to treat their conditions. Unfortunately, these asylums quickly

became overcrowded, and there were not many effective treatments at
the time for most disorders. Thus, despite the good intentions, in practical
terms the asylums remained little more than giant warehouses that
separated the mentally ill from the rest of society.
The treatment of individuals with psychological disorders changed
dramatically in the 1950s and 1960s. One major contribution to the shift
in attitudes toward patients was that effective treatments began to be

developed for some disorders, largely in the form of medication. As
patients’ symptoms became more treatable, a society-wide movement

toward deinstitutionalization  occurred, which involved the movement of
large numbers of psychiatric in-patients from their care facilities back into
regular society, generally after having their symptoms alleviated through
medication. The next three decades saw about an 85% decrease in the
number of psychiatric inpatients (Sealy & Whitehead, 2006), both in

Canada and in many other countries (Fakhoury & Priebe, 2002).
Although a small subset of patients still required inpatient care, the vast
majority of individuals who entered the hospital stayed for a relatively
short time before they were stabilized, given medication, and sent back
(ideally) to the care of their families.
In the decades since the deinstitutionalization movement began, mental
health care providers have amassed many resources and strategies to help
people in distress. For example, in as little as three or four days, a patient
admitted after a suicide attempt may be fully evaluated, begin medication
and therapy, receive education about emergency resources such as

suicide hotlines, and then be released. Whereas the goal in the past was
to remove the mentally ill from society, current inpatient treatment is

geared toward protecting the individual patient from immediate harm
while encouraging a quick and successful return to regular society. The

challenge for the healthcare system is to then provide adequate
outpatient treatment so that the benefits of these treatments lead to long-

term recovery; unfortunately, many provincial governments are failing in
this regard (Brien et al., 2015).
Of course, some people still require intensive, long-term care. In place of
asylums, many chronic inpatients now live in residential treatment

centres. These centres allow inpatients to enjoy much more personal
freedom, depending on the severity of their symptoms. Low-level
residential treatment centres  are housing facilities in which residents

receive psychological therapy and life skills training, with the explicit goal of
helping residents become re-integrated into society. Medium- to high-level
centres have the same emphasis as low-level centres, but also place
restrictions on individuals’ freedoms for reasons of safety and stability.
These centres function like hospitals inside medium-security prisons, with
a high staff-to-resident ratio to ensure that residents’ movements and
freedom remain under control, with potential escapes prevented by

security systems and physical barriers (e.g., locked doors that bar escape).
These facilities are intended for individuals with more dangerous
histories—such as incidents of physical or sexual assault.
Involuntary Treatment
In some cases, people are required to enter the mental health system
against their will. In Canada and the United States, as well as many other
countries, people can be compelled through the courts or on the advice of
social service agencies or doctors to be treated for mental illness or
addictions. The majority of these cases arise due to the person engaging
in highly erratic or disturbing behaviour, which results in legal trouble
and the possibility that the person may be a risk to themselves or others.
Involuntary treatment is a very controversial issue. Those in favour of the
ability of psychiatrists to have someone commited to a psychiatric ward

argue that doing so ensures that people with severe disorders receive
treatments that they might otherwise avoid (Hough & O’Brien, 2005;
Pollack et al., 2005). It also may protect society from people who may
otherwise harm themselves or other people. Those against involuntary
treatment are concerned that this practice is unethical because it can

restrict the freedom of people who may not have actually done anything
harmful to themselves or others. It can also involve patients being forced
to take medications that may alter brain function and/or have adverse
side effects.
Importantly, involuntary treatment is also more common for some ethnic
groups and socioeconomic classes than others (Kisely et al., 2011). A
survey of records in the United States indicated that individuals who are
lower in socioeconomic status and from African-American or Latino

backgrounds are significantly more likely to receive court-ordered
treatment (Takeuchi & Cheung, 1998). Some of these differences may be
due to the fact that poorer individuals are unable to afford treatment. In
this case, a court-ordered treatment may allow them to receive help that
would otherwise be unavailable. But it is also possible that different
groups in society are judged differently, even if the mental-health
professionals are attempting to remain unbiased.

The Importance of Community Psychology
The deinstitutionalization movement of the 1950s and 1960s did have one
unintentional negative consequence: many of the previously hospitalized
patients who were released back into society did not have family or social
support structures in place to help them reintegrate successfully. As a
result, many mentally ill people faced problems with substance abuse,
homelessness, and being victimized or traumatized by people who took
advantage of their vulnerable state.
To deal with these issues, some psychologists began to place less
emphasis on individual, one-on-one therapy, in favour of working with

the community at large. This gave rise to a field known as community
psychology , which focuses on identifying how individuals’ mental health is
influenced by the community in which they live, and emphasizes community-
level variables such as social programs, support networks, and community
resource centres to help those with mental illness adjust to the challenges of
everyday life.
Through working at a community level rather than narrowly focusing on
individuals, community psychologists hope to prevent or minimize the
development of disorders, seeking to enhance the factors (such as healthy
family relationships) that strengthen people and make them more
resilient to the kinds of stresses that can otherwise undermine mental
health. For example, to prevent depression, community psychologists
may conduct research into the environmental and neighbourhood factors

that contribute to stress, anxiety, and depression, and then work with
community groups to resolve these problems. In addition, they may
develop programs to counter negative cognitive patterns and bolster
positive thinking in schools and afterschool programs. These programs,
along with the early detection of psychological symptoms, have had
positive effects on individuals, as well as on the economic costs and the
demands placed on the healthcare system (Mental Health Commission,
2014; Roberts & Grimes, 2011).
Psych@
The University Mental Health Counselling Centre
In many workplace or educational settings, mental health
services are available to the population through the
institution’s own services. A good example is university
campuses. The stresses of university life can often bring about
temporary struggles with mental well-being. Students must
deal with the stresses of managing a heavy workload,

beginning a career path, and developing an adult identity, while
also juggling work and family obligations. Some students also

face lifelong struggles with mental illness. In any given year,
approximately 15% to 20% of Canadian university students

exhibit symptoms of depression, the majority of whom report
that depression significantly affected their academics
(American College Health Association, 2016). One study on first-

year students at Acadia University found that 7% of male and
14% of female students experienced a major depressive

disorder in their first year at school alone (Price et al., 2006). In
general, mental health issues in university students seem to be

on the rise. Over the past two decades, rates of depression
have increased more than 50%, with anxiety disorders and
other issues also increasing (American College Health

Association, 2016).
University counselling centres typically employ a resident

psychologist or psychiatrist, along with a staff of trained
counsellors. These centres are in great demand and often have

waiting lists, with universities sometimes struggling to find the
economic resources to meet the rising need for help (Gibson,

2019). Counsellors are trained to help with the more common
student issues, such as stress, anxiety, time management,
depression, and relationship issues, but they also often

encounter students with more severe disorders than most
counselling centres are designed to accommodate (Gallagher,

2007; Voelker, 2003). In these cases, counsellors can help
students find appropriate mental health professionals.
University counselling centres provide much-needed

psychological help to students who are struggling with different
mental illnesses.
Belchonock/123RF
Evaluating Treatments
Given the diversity of treatment approaches and settings that are

available, it is important to know which approaches are effective. In the
mid-1990s, the American Psychological Association set up task forces to
evaluate different therapy practices and made their findings and
recommendations available online to the general public (APA, 2009). This

led to a call for more studies to examine the effectiveness of different
therapeutic approaches, so that evidence-based treatments could be
identified and given further financial support, such as being included in
insurance companies’ health insurance plans.

Empirically Supported Treatments
Empirically supported treatments  (also called evidence-based
therapies) are treatments that have been tested and evaluated using scientific
methods (Chambless & Ollendick, 2001; De Los Reyes & Kazdin, 2008).
The most rigorous way of testing whether a certain therapy works is
through an experiment. An experiment generally involves randomly

assigning volunteers to a treatment group (e.g., a type of therapy) and to
a control group. These types of experimental designs have been used to
test all of the therapeutic techniques discussed in Modules 16.2  and
16.3 .
However, testing the effectiveness of different therapies is not a simple
matter. Ideally, experiments are double-blind, which in this case means
that neither the patient nor the individual evaluating the patient is aware
of which group the patient is in. However, this level of rigour is often
close to impossible to attain when evaluating therapies. One common

problem is that it is ethically problematic to place people into a control
group that receives no treatment of any kind, because it effectively denies
them treatment that they need. It is also generally impossible to use
double-blind procedures, given that a therapist, of course, knows which
type of treatment is being administered, and many clients likely do as
well. As a result, it is very difficult to adequately test the effectiveness of
many therapeutic approaches to the rigorous extent required for
empirical support (DeRubeis & Crits-Cristoph, 1998).

Additionally, even though many therapists may provide the same
therapy, each therapist will have a slightly different personal approach,
and each combination of client and therapist will be unique. Much of the
effectiveness of therapy comes from the therapeutic alliance —the
relationship that emerges in therapy between the therapist and the patient. In
fact, the specific type of therapy used is actually less important than
factors such as empathy and trust, which allow the therapist and client to
build an appropriately supportive relationship. Therapists who are more
socially skilled (who show warmth, concern, and empathy) tend to be
more effective. Similarly, clients who are more open to the process, more
willing to trust the therapist, and more willing to recognize and work on
their issues are more likely to benefit from therapy (Prochaska &
Norcross, 2002).
The importance of the therapeutic alliance to the successful treatment of
psychological disorders makes a great deal of intuitive sense. However,
empirically based treatments are not the only method people use when
coping with these disorders. The past few decades have seen an
explosion of self-help literature aimed at providing a convenient and

affordable alternative to structured therapy.
Can Self-Help Treatments Be Effective?
Many people opt to address their psychological problems by
using resources that do not involve visiting an actual therapist,

such as self-help books, online information, or community
workshops. Are these approaches helpful?
What do we know about the availability of

self-help treatments?
There is a huge variety of self-help materials available to the
public. Just walk down to your local bookstore and check out the
psychology section, where you will find books on everything
from anxiety and depression to how to raise children, deal with
divorce, and optimize your well-being. A quick perusal will

reveal that many of these books are written by people with PhDs
in the relevant fields (although many are not), but the books also
do not always agree with one another on the best approach to
whatever issue they are discussing. For example, if you read the
popular literature on how to help children deal with emotional
struggles, you could catalogue several approaches that were not
only different, but actually would work against each other. Given
this uncertainty, how can we tell if the material in self-help
programs is actually helpful?

How can science test the effectiveness of self-
help treatments?
There is some research on this issue, examining whether
bibliotherapy , the use of self-help books and other reading materials
as a form of therapy, improves people’s symptoms. For example,
one study attempted to assess the effectiveness of bibliotherapy
over a three-month period in 170 elderly primary-care patients
who were experiencing depression. The patients were evenly
divided into two groups: both groups received a “standard care”
approach, but the self-help group also read a self-help book on

depression. After three months, the group who read the self-help
book in addition to the standard care showed no signs of reduced
depression compared to the control group (Joling et al., 2010).
However, as discussed earlier, this is hardly a definitive test of
the effectiveness of self-help. It’s possible that a particular book
wasn’t effective for this population, but a different one could have
been.
A slightly stronger approach to this question is to perform a
meta-analysis, combining numerous studies testing a similar
hypothesis. One such analysis combined six separate studies that

had tested whether the book Feeling Good reduced depressive
symptoms. The researchers found that over four weeks, those
who read the book had reduced depression compared to those

who had not (see Figure 16.1 ; Anderson et al., 2005). Thus,
there may be reason to believe that bibliotherapy can be helpful

in some situations.
Figure 16.1 Results of Six Studies Evaluating the Self-Help Book Feeling Good
Research on the book Feeling Good shows successful results in
reducing symptoms of depression. Comparisons across six
studies (identified by author name and publication date) indicate
statistically significant improvement in each case (Anderson et
al., 2005).
Source: Based on Anderson, L., Lewis, G., Araya, R., Elgie, R., Harrison, G., . . . &
Williams, C. (2005). Self-help books for depression: How can practitioners and patients
make the right choice? British Journal of General Practice, 55, 387–392.

The biggest strength of the self-help literature is also its biggest
weakness: there are so many books available that it is almost
impossible to ensure that they are all credible sources of

information. The research presented above used a single book,
Feeling Good, as the representative of self-help books. Obviously,

this is not sufficient evidence in favour of using self-help books to
cope with psychological disorders (an issue that the authors of

that research were quick to point out). People planning to use
self-help books should ensure that the authors have the
necessary qualifications to advise people about mental health
issues. If possible, they should also see if the coping strategies

promoted in the book have been tested by scientists. Although
the dense methods and results sections of academic articles may
intimidate some readers, most articles also come with an

accessible summary (known as an abstract) that provides readers
with the take-home message of the study (i.e., did it work?).
The reason that caution is necessary when using self-help books

is that many psychological disorders are both complex and
emotionally intense. Exploring the various symptoms of a
person’s psychological disorder—and examining their causes—

can sometimes be a difficult experience. Having a trained
therapist aid you in coping with these experiences is often
helpful. This is not to say that all self-help books should be
avoided. Rather, it is to warn people that these books do not

always prepare people for the emotions that can arise as they
deal with the symptoms of their psychological disorders.

Self-help options have major advantages over traditional
approaches to therapy, which means that if they do work, even in
part, this information is important to know. For example, self-
help options are typically low in cost (e.g., compare $150 for an
hour of therapy to $20 for a book), are convenient, and can be
accessed anonymously. Furthermore, self-help options are
extremely easy to find in the self-help section in the bookstore or
with a quick online search for self-help programs. Indeed, many
people consult online resources to get help for depression,

anxiety, substance abuse problems, and sexual health (Fox,
2005).
That said, research does suggest that self-help approaches,
relative to in-person therapy sessions, are less likely to lead
people to actually implement changes in their own lives

(O’Kearney et al., 2006). If you are experiencing psychological
distress, it is probably advisable to speak with a mental health
professional at least once—especially if symptoms are severe—to
find out whether self-help is appropriate for your situation. A
professional may also be able to suggest good resources, which

can save you a great deal of wasted energy wading through stacks
of self-help literature in the search for quality information.
Barriers to Psychological Treatment
Our knowledge of psychological disorders has improved dramatically in

the past 50 years, yet many people with psychological difficulties do not
receive help. For example, in a 2016 study by the Centre for Addiction
and Mental Health in Toronto, only 40% of adults who reported
significant anxiety or depression received some form of therapy (Boak et

al., 2016). In both Canada and the United States, surveys show that
approximately two-thirds of people with mental health issues don’t even
seek professional help (Lesage et al., 2006; NIMH, 2011). Furthermore,
roughly two-thirds of adults with diagnosed mood or anxiety disorders
reported waiting over a year to receive a diagnosis (Cheung et al., 2017).
Why would people choose not to seek help?

Difficulty Defining a “Disorder”
One problem that almost everyone struggles with is that disorders
themselves are inherently ambiguous. Thus, a person may believe they
are simply sad, rather than experiencing an episode of depression. After
all, sadness is a regular part of life, and not everyone who is sad needs to
see a therapist. The same is true for most psychological disorders. Rather
than seeking help when a person begins to experience problems, they
might wait until it is so severe that they have no choice, or perhaps a
loved one convinces them that they need to see a professional.

Stigma around Mental Illness
Another common barrier is stigma toward mental illness and toward the
process of therapy itself (Corrigan, 2004; Vogel et al., 2009). You may
intuitively understand the effects of stigma—do you think it would be
easier for a high-powered executive to take some time off work for
intensive chemotherapy or inpatient treatment for severe depression?

Whereas most adults say they would be open to talking about a cancer
diagnosis at work, fewer say they would be open to talking about a
mental health condition (see Table 16.1 ; Canadian Mental Health
Association, 2008). Even people who would never intentionally
stigmatize others can be reluctant to share their own struggles.

Obviously, we still have a long way to go before mental illnesses are
viewed in the same way as physical ailments.
Table 16.1 Stigma Related to Mental Illness

Source: Canadian Medical Association (2008). 8th annual National Report Card on Health Care;
Bell Canada (2015). Bell Let’s Talk: The first 5 years (2010-2015).
Attitudes toward Treatment
An additional barrier to people seeking treatment for psychological
disorders is that some people do not trust the psychological or psychiatric
professions and are skeptical of the usefulness and safety of different
treatments (Mansfield et al., 2005; Vanheusden et al., 2008). Overcoming
such skepticism may make a big difference in helping people seek

treatment; for example, in one study, 99% of respondents said they would
seek mental health treatment if they believed it would be helpful (Fox et
al., 2001). There is an important role to be played by educational
programs that help people become aware of how different problems can
be treated, and help to build confidence in the mental health profession

(Sharp et al., 2006).
Review Attitudes toward Seeking Professional Help

Source: From “Attitudes toward Seeking Professional Psychological Help: A Shortened Form and
Considerations for Research” by E. H. Fischer & A. Farina (1995) Journal of College Student
Development, 36, 368-373. Copyright © 1995 by American College Personnel Association.
Reprinted by permission.
Gender Roles
In many countries, including Canada and the United States, experiencing
psychological distress and going to therapy seem incompatible with the
idea of a strong, independent male. This leads people to downplay
problems and assume they should just power through any struggles they
face. This self-reliance certainly doesn’t promote talking about emotions

and acknowledging vulnerabilities, steps that would put people on a path
toward healing (Berger et al., 2005; Mahalik et al., 2003). In fact, getting
men to see therapy differently has presented such a challenge that the
National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) in the United States has
staged public awareness initiatives such as the “Real Men, Real

Depression” campaign. Initial evidence indicates that social marketing
messages such as this do succeed in increasing the likelihood people will
seek help, perhaps partially overcoming resistance based on traditional
gender roles (Bell et al., 2010; Rochlen et al., 2006).

Dwayne Johnson (aka “The Rock”) has spoken about the depression he
experienced when his football career ended. Having male celebrities such
as The Rock speak up about his mental health struggles makes it easier
for other males to seek help without fear that they will appear less
masculine.
Invision/AP/Shutterstock
Culture
People from certain cultural groups are less likely to use psychological
services. In Canada, Asian Canadians and people of Indigenous descent
are both less likely to seek mental health treatment than Canadians of
European background (Sue & Lam, 2002). Therapy is also a more popular
choice for Canadians and Americans in general relative to people from

many other countries, such as Israel, Hungary, Japan, and Korea (Cohen
et al., 1998; Masuda et al., 2005; Yoo & Skovholt, 2001). There are many
possible reasons for these differences, ranging from the degree of stigma
toward mental illness in different cultures to financial and other barriers
that make access to treatment more difficult.
Some research suggests that individuals from ethnic minority groups are
more likely to discuss mental health issues with their medical doctor than
with a psychiatrist or psychologist (Jimenez et al., 2012). However, family
physicians—although very well-educated—are not experts in treating

psychological disorders. Additionally, a U.S.-based study found that many
individuals belonging to ethnic minority groups would prefer to see a
mental health professional from the same ethnic background; however,
the same study noted that there were not enough mental health
professionals to meet this need (USDHHS, 2001). Given the increasingly
multicultural nature of Canadian society, this barrier to treatment will
likely become increasingly important.

Geographical Barriers
Some of the cultural barriers related to receiving treatment are also
related to Canada’s geography. According to recent statistics (Statistica,
2017), 81% of Canadians live in cities where people may take for granted
their easy access to health care. This is not the case in rural settings,
particularly in Northern communities. Research conducted at the

University of Northern British Columbia identified a number of issues
that are unique to Canada’s remote communities (O’Neill, 2010). These
include the mental health problems associated with isolation, poverty,
and the challenge of maintaining traditional cultures in a rapidly changing
world. Unfortunately, rural areas in Canada are also experiencing

problems attracting (and keeping) mental health professionals. If there is
a mental health professional in a small community, patients and
therapists may have frequent social contact. The therapist would
therefore have to juggle a number of different roles (e.g., therapist,
neighbour, friend; Barbopoulos & Clark, 2003). Not surprisingly,

psychologists in rural regions—particularly in remote areas—experience
high rates of burnout and often leave remote rural areas after a few years
(Schmidt, 2000). As a result, individuals in rural regions have less access
to psychological therapies than Canadians living in cities.

Financial Barriers
Not everyone can spare the time and money for treatment (Colonna-
Pydyn et al., 2007; Craske et al., 2005). Unfortunately, government
healthcare coverage in Canada generally only includes treatment by
psychiatrists, leaving counsellors, psychologists, and many types of
therapists less able to reach many people who can’t afford their services.
As a result, psychotherapy can be very expensive, generally costing more
than $100 per hour. Therapy is also associated with numerous indirect
costs, such as time away from work, transportation, and possibly
childcare. The net result of these sorts of funding decisions is to place
greater emphasis on the medical approaches to treating psychological

disorders (i.e., medications). Although the medical approach is ideal for
some disorders, there are situations where patients would benefit if
greater emphasis were placed on learned skills such as how to effectively
manage emotions, improve relationships in the family, or deal with stress.
Psychologists and counsellors would be able to help in these situations.
To help overcome financial barriers, community mental health centres
sometimes provide therapy on a sliding scale, which means the cost of a
one-hour session varies depending on the patient’s income and whether
they have additional health benefits from employers that would cover
some of the therapy costs. Drug treatments can also be made more
affordable by using generic products rather than brand-name ones.

The cumulative impact of the barriers to psychological treatment leaves
millions of people delaying or simply never receiving the kind of therapy
and support that could seriously improve their lives (Wang et al., 2005).
Understanding these barriers is an important step toward overcoming
them.
Module 16.1 Summary
16.1a Know . . . the key terminology associated with mental

health treatment.
Review Module 16.1
16.1b Understand . . . the major barriers to seeking help for

These barriers include expense, availability (which is related to one’s
geographical location), gender, and attitudes toward therapy, which are

often influenced by the stigma against therapy that may be held by a
particular group (e.g., males and some cultural groups).
16.1c Understand . . . the arguments for and against involuntary

treatment.
Proponents argue that such treatment improves mental health and
ensures that people with severe disorders receive appropriate treatment.
In severe cases, involuntary treatment may also help to protect innocent
people from individuals who are potentially violent. Opponents argue
that the benefits of involuntary treatment are limited and may result in
the patient feeling coerced or resentful.
16.1d Apply . . . your knowledge to suggest what approach to

therapy is likely most appropriate for a given situation.
The appropriate kind of therapeutic setting depends on a host of factors,
including the psychological disorders that require treatment, the
individuals’ location, and their ability to afford medications or therapy.
For common problems such as stress and milder forms of depression and
anxiety, seeing a counselling psychologist is likely a good first step. Most
universities offer counselling services for students on campus. For more

severe and debilitating problems, such as severe anxiety, depression, or
schizophrenia, a clinical psychologist or psychiatrist is likely most

appropriate. A psychologist will likely engage in a form of psychological
therapy, whereas a psychiatrist will likely take a more physiological

approach involving prescribing medication.
Apply Activity
16.1e Analyze . . . whether self-help options, such as popular
books, are a useful therapy option.
Self-help books alone are not likely to be life-changing or good stand-

alone treatments for serious problems such as major depression, anxiety,
and substance abuse. Even so, research on bibliotherapy indicates that in

some cases, when used in conjunction with other methods, reading self-
help books can bring about modest improvements. It is, of course, always
possible that for a specific individual, any specific self-help book may be
profoundly helpful and even life-changing; however, on average, reading

self-help books has only a small therapeutic benefit.
Module 16.2 Psychological
Therapies
16.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to psychological therapies.
16.2b Understand . . . the general approaches to conducting major
types of psychological therapy.
16.2c Apply . . . your knowledge to identify major therapeutic
techniques.
16.2d Analyze . . . the pros and cons of the major types of
psychological therapy.
Medical doctors are generally required to follow the Hippocratic Oath—
a pledge that they will cause no harm to their patients. One way of
honouring this oath is to use the safest and most effective treatments.
Although we do not generally associate the Hippocratic Oath with
psychologists, they also follow the basic tenet, seeking to use techniques
that are safe and do not cause harm to their clients. If there is a
possibility that a specific type of treatment might worsen a condition,
this treatment should therefore be avoided, unless there are no better
options.
For example, Scared Straight was a program developed in the 1970s

that involved exposing at-risk youth to prisons and prisoners. The
interventions were based on the premise that shocking or scaring the
youths with the harsh realities of prison life would deter criminal
activity. These scare tactics involved blunt descriptions of prison
violence, along with verbal aggression directed at adolescents attending

the sessions. The program may have succeeded in scaring and shocking
adolescents, but the youths who attended these sessions did not
necessarily go down a straight path. Many were later convicted of
crimes and incarcerated. In fact, if anything, the program seemed to

backfire; according to some analyses, participants in the program
showed an increased chance of subsequently committing crimes
(Petrosino et al., 2003).
Scared Straight and other methods for helping people can,

unintentionally, do more harm than good (Lilienfeld, 2007). Although
a rare case, this example reminds us that therapy can be performed in

many different ways, and we should be cautious in determining which
methods are best.
In Module 16.1 , we introduced psychological therapy as a set of
processes for resolving personal, emotional, behavioural, and social

problems and improving well-being. Psychological therapy is a broad
term, and mental health providers have a number of therapeutic

approaches to choose from. In this module, we will study several of these
approaches. Although the methods are diverse, they are all types of
psychological therapy, rather than biological or medical therapy. In
psychological approaches, techniques for resolving problems rely heavily

upon communication between client and therapist.
Insight Therapies
Psychologists have long believed that self-knowledge and understanding

can lead to positive changes in behaviour. This is certainly the case for
insight therapies , which is a general term referring to therapy that involves
dialogue between patient and therapist for the purposes of gaining awareness
and understanding of psychological problems and conflicts. Historically, the

formal beginning of insight therapy came with the development of
psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud and its evolution into psychodynamic
therapies , forms of insight therapy that emphasizes the need to discover and
resolve unconscious conflicts.

Psychoanalysis: Exploring the Unconscious
In the mid-1880s, Freud was setting up a neurological practice in Vienna.
Many of his early patients were young women who were suffering from
physical symptoms such as shaking, sleep problems, or even partial
paralysis; however, there did not appear to be any biological cause that
could explain these symptoms. Psychoanalysis began as part of Freud’s

attempt to identify psychological factors that could produce these physical
symptoms.
One possibility that Freud quickly embraced was the idea that humans
have both conscious motivations that we are aware of as well as

unconscious motivations that can influence our behaviour without our
knowledge. As described in Module 12.3 , Freud hypothesized that
many of the factors that motivate us include biological urges, such as
sexuality and aggression, which are socially unacceptable in most forms.
Rather than act on all of these impulses, we use psychological defences to

keep them out of our conscious experience. Freud believed that
psychoanalysts should help patients become aware of these unconscious
urges. Doing so would allow patients to gain insight into their psychic
conflicts. This understanding was believed to free patients from the grips
of the previously unknown forces that were impacting their lives. Freud
and his followers based their practice on some core ideas summarized in
Table 16.2 .
Table 16.2 Core Ideas Forming the Basis of Psychoanalysis

Gaining access to the unconscious mind is tricky business; by definition,
the patient doesn’t know what’s there. As a result, Freud and his followers
invented several methods they believed would help them access the
mysterious unconscious realm. One of the primary techniques is free
association , during which patients are encouraged to talk or write without
censoring their thoughts in any way. Instead, the person allows everything
that pops into their mind to come spilling out, no matter how odd or
meaningless it may seem. Freud believed that this uncensored stream of
consciousness would reveal clues to the unconscious in ways that patients

may not normally be able to access.
The second is dream analysis. Freud believed that in the relatively
unguarded dreaming mind, the unconscious would be better able to

express itself. Because it doesn’t communicate through language as the
conscious mind does, Freud reasoned that it expresses itself through

symbols that need to be properly interpreted. Dream analysis  is a
method of examining the details of a dream (the manifest content), in order to

gain insight into the true meaning of the dream, the emotional, unconscious
material that is being communicated symbolically (the latent content). Dreams
take the form of imagery (sometimes bizarre and confusing), but within
them, Freud believed were hidden desires. The psychoanalyst’s role was
to help patients properly understand these symbolic truths in order to

gain insight into their unconscious conflicts.
For example, consider one of Freud’s best known dream analyses: A

patient dreamed he was riding his bicycle down a street when suddenly a
dachshund (a type of dog) ran him down and bit his ankle as he
attempted to pedal away. Meanwhile, two elderly ladies sat by and
laughed at the incident. The details described are the manifest content, but
what might the dream mean—what is the latent content? Freud pointed out
that in his waking life the patient had repeatedly seen a woman walking a
dog and, although he was very attracted to her, he felt great anxiety about
approaching her. The man had consciously devised a plan to use the dog
as an excuse to strike up a conversation with the woman. Unfortunately,
the anxiety caused by fear of rejection manifested itself in an unpleasant

dream about being attacked by a dog, accompanied by the humiliation of
being laughed at (Freud, 1920). (How Freud would have reacted to the
fact that English speakers also call dachshunds “wiener dogs” is a

question best left to historians.)
The third strategy is to pay attention to signs of resistance. Resistance 
occurs in therapy when the patient engages in strategies that keep unconscious
thoughts or motivations that they wish to avoid from fully entering conscious
awareness. Resistance may be subtle, such as the patient using humour to

avoid talking about something painful, or it may be obvious, such as the
patient skipping sessions, becoming angry at the psychoanalyst, or

becoming cynical about the whole process. This behaviour is actually
considered a promising signal for the psychoanalyst because it means that
they are beginning to access the unconscious motives of the clients’

present difficulties. Psychoanalysts then attempt to push through the
resistance by making patients aware of how and what they are resisting.
A fourth tool used by psychoanalysts involves transference , whereby
patients direct certain patterns or emotional experiences toward the analyst,
rather than the original person involved in the experiences (e.g., their parents).
For example, if a patient is addressing a hidden sexual conflict, then
transference may occur through them developing sexual feelings for the
analyst. Or as another example, if a patient’s mother made them feel
excessively criticized during childhood, they may tend to see the analyst’s
behaviours as being critical in a similar way, and respond defensively as
though being attacked or criticized. Thus, the patient’s interaction with
the analyst becomes a kind of stage on which conflicts with other people
are revealed and explored. Transference is a significant milestone in the
process of psychoanalysis. Once it is reached, the analyst and patient can

begin to work through specific problems and to discuss ways of coping
with them.
In sum, there are many different techniques that psychoanalysts draw

upon, including transference, resistance, dream analysis, and free
association, that can help to provide direct knowledge of the person’s
otherwise inaccessible unconscious. Once this material is brought to the
light of the patient’s conscious awareness, these patterns can begin to be
examined and, ideally, changed.
Review Activity Match the Psychoanalytic Element with Its Description

Modern Psychodynamic Therapies
Today, Freudian-based psychoanalysis is practised by relatively few
therapists. Nevertheless, Freud’s ideas have remained influential and
several newer therapies have evolved from traditional psychoanalysis. In
contrast to Freudian methods, these new approaches are more concerned
with the client’s conscious rather than unconscious experience. They also
acknowledge the effect of cultural and interpersonal influences on
individual behaviour, and the impact of important needs such as love,
power, belonging, and security. Finally, they are more optimistic about
people’s ability to reach healthy functioning.
One example is object relations therapy , a variation of psychodynamic
therapy that focuses on how early childhood experiences and emotional
attachments influence later psychological functioning (see Module 10.2 ). In
contrast to psychoanalysis, object relations therapy does not centre on
repressed sexual and aggressive conflicts. Instead, the focus is on

“objects,” which are the clients’ mental representations of themselves and
important others. The basic view is that the quality of the early
relationship between the child and these “objects” results in the
development of mental models for the child. These mental models act to
shape the person’s perceptions and interpretations in relationships, the
general consequence being that the person will tend to form and
maintain relationships as an adult that are consistent with the mental
models that were formed in childhood. The mental models tell the person
what is “normal” and provide an interpretive framework within which to

make sense of relationships. The therapist’s job is to help the client
understand these mental models and the relationship patterns they
represent and reinforce. This generally leads to working with relational
issues of trust, fear of abandonment, dependence on others, and other
relationship factors.
Humanistic–Existential Psychotherapy
An important new movement in psychotherapy arose during the 1950s,
when humanistic psychologists broke from psychoanalytic approaches
over several deep differences in their assumptions about people and the
theoretical foundation upon which they were building. This humanistic–
existential approach can be characterized by at least five key differences

from the psychodynamic approaches (listed in Table 16.3 ). Overall, this
new orientation emphasized individual strengths and the potential for
growth, and assumed that human nature is fundamentally positive, rather
than the essentially negative perspective advanced by psychoanalytic
approaches. This shift toward the positive was believed to help

individuals access their own sense of personal agency for overcoming
their problems.
Table 16.3
Contrasting Psychoanalytic and Humanistic Views of Major Psychological Issues and Debates
Humanistic and existential therapies share many similarities: to help
people express their authentic selves, to overcome alienation, to become
more loving, and to take responsibility for their experiences so that they
learn to dwell fully in the present. The major difference between them is
that humanistic therapists focus on removing the obstacles that prevent
self-actualization from unfolding naturally. Existential therapists, on the

other hand, emphasize the importance of facing painful experiences such
as feelings about isolation, death, and meaninglessness, believing that
self-actualization involves transforming by facing one’s fears and

negativity. Even though attaining insight is still an important aspect of
these therapies, rather than interpreting the hidden meanings of dreams

and free associations, the therapist’s role is to listen empathically in order
to understand the clients’ internal world. This is referred to as a

phenomenological approach , which means that the therapist addresses
the clients’ feelings and thoughts as they unfold in the present moment, rather
than looking for unconscious motives or dwelling in the past.
American psychologist Carl Rogers (1902–1987) developed a version of
humanistic therapy called client-centred therapy  (or person-centred
therapy ), which focuses on individuals’ abilities to solve their own problems
and reach their full potential with the encouragement of the therapist. As a
humanist, Rogers believed that all individuals could develop and reach
their full potential. However, people experience psychological problems
when others impose conditions of worth, meaning that they appear to

judge or lose affection for a person who does not live up to expectations
(Rogers, 1951). Conditions of worth are imposed, for example, by a father
who only pays attention or gives praise or encouragement when his child
is doing well at something, or who expresses disappointment in the child
if they do something wrong, focusing more on the child’s character

failings or lack of will than on the actual behaviour itself and what caused
it. If people give the impression that their respect and love for a person
are contingent upon the person behaving in certain ways or meeting
certain expectations, then they have imposed conditions of worth.

Conditions of worth can impact psychological health over the long term,
because they increase insecurities within the individual. As a result, the

person is likely to change their behaviour in an attempt to regain
affection. If this happens frequently, then the individual’s behaviour starts
to be primarily about gaining affection and approval, living in order to

please others rather than being able to express their own authentic self.
That, to Carl Rogers, is a key aspect of most psychological dysfunction.
Emotion-focused therapy (EFT) is one promising type of person-centred

therapy that has evolved from the humanistic–existential tradition. EFT is
based on the well-supported belief that it is better to face and accept

difficult emotions and thoughts than to bottle them inside (Greenberg,
2004; Hayes et al., 2006). Therapists employing this form of therapy aim
to help clients overcome their tendency to suppress disturbing thoughts
and emotions, so that clients are less defensive overall and have fuller
access to their whole range of experiences and emotions.

The most important aspect of all client-centred therapies lies within the
dialogue that unfolds between therapist and client. The therapist must
show unconditional positive regard through genuine, empathetic, and

non-judgmental attention. If the therapist can remove all conditions of
worth, clients may begin to express themselves without fear and begin to
develop inner strength. Finally, with self-confidence and strength, clients

can accept disagreements with others and focus on living their lives to the
fullest.
Watch Humanistic Therapy

Evaluating Insight Therapies
As discussed in Module 16.1 , from an evidence-based perspective,
therapies should be used only if there is empirical support that they
actually work. Psychodynamic therapies meet some of the criteria for
empirically supported therapies, though surprisingly few studies in this
area have been conducted with proper research designs and control
conditions. Ultimately, the effectiveness of insight therapies depends on
the condition being treated. The best-designed studies have generally
shown that psychodynamic therapy is not effective in treating
schizophrenia, but it has shown promise for treating panic disorder,
dependence on opiate drugs (e.g., heroin), and borderline personality

disorder (Gibbons et al., 2008). Psychodynamic therapy may help with
depression, particularly if combined with drug treatment—an approach
we will describe in greater detail in Module 16.3 .
For less severe conditions, such as mild depression and anxiety,

behavioural issues such as dysfunctional habits or motivation and goal-
striving difficulties, insight-focused therapies can often make a difference,
helping individuals gain understanding and awareness of the nature of
their psychological problems. Many people with psychological disorders
are able to learn to function effectively without digging deeply into
possible “root causes,” but instead by cultivating new, more adaptive
behaviours (Weisz et al., 1995).

Research shows that Carl Rogers was accurate in emphasizing the
importance of the therapeutic relationship for successful therapy
(Horvath & Bedi, 2002; Wampold, 2001). In fact, a strong alliance is a
good predictor of successful therapy over and above the specific type of
therapy delivered, and positive regard (Farber & Lane, 2002) and
empathy are both related to therapeutic success (Bohart et al., 2002).
Research is somewhat inconsistent on the effectiveness of person-centred
therapy more generally, although this therapy is reliably more effective
than no treatment at all (Greenberg et al., 1994). As discussed earlier, one

complicating factor in this research may be the skill of therapists
themselves. Some therapists may be highly skilled at connecting with
clients and establishing good rapport in therapy, whereas others may be
less capable in these ways. This difference in therapists’ skill could
account for these mixed findings, and makes it difficult for research
studies to then accurately assess the effectiveness of an approach like
Rogers’.
Behavioural, Cognitive, and Group
Therapies
Behavioural therapies  attempt to directly address problem behaviours and
the environmental factors that trigger them. At the heart of behavioural
therapies is the belief that patterns of behaviour are the result of
conditioning and learning that have led to the automatization of
maladaptive habits. In other words, through processes such as

reinforcement and punishment, some individuals have learned to respond
in ways that may be harmful to their physical or mental well-being.
Behavioural approaches seek to recondition clients, training them to
adopt different behavioural responses to situations until they develop
new, more functional, habits.
Watch Behaviour Therapy

Systematic Desensitization
How behavioural therapy works is clearly illustrated by its application to
a very common problem: fear of public speaking. Most people experience
at least some anxiety about public speaking, but for some, their reaction
is so intense that even thinking about making a speech can bring on
major anxiety, arousal, and even panic attacks.
To help people learn to handle such an anxiety-inducing situation,
therapists will often employ a behavioural technique known as
systematic desensitization , in which gradual exposure to a feared stimulus
or situation is coupled with relaxation training (Wolpe, 1990). First, the

client is guided toward being able to identify and track their own feelings
of anxiety versus relaxation, so that they gain greater awareness “in the
moment” of when they are feelings anxious and, critically, what it feels
like when those feelings subside. Once the client has this kind of inner
awareness, the therapist will expose them to a very mild version of the
fear-inducing situation, such as imagining walking up to the front of the
room where they are going to give the speech. As the client engages in
this exercise and feels anxiety starting to rise, they practise relaxing or
engaging in behavioural strategies (e.g., pausing in their imagination,
practising a breathing exercise in order to calm down) in order to
counteract the anxiety. With practice, the anxious response to that
particular trigger will lessen, and the client then progresses to more
realistic and concrete manifestations of the situation, each time practising
relaxing until they can learn to tolerate the feelings and counteract them
with a relaxation response. This escalation of the intensity of the
triggering experience continues slowly, step-by-step, until the client can
eventually handle the real thing. This process is described in detail in
Table 16.4 .
Table 16.4 Applying Steps of Systematic Desensitization to Fear of Public Speaking
In some cases, clients may undergo a process called flooding, in which the
client goes straight to the most challenging part of the hierarchy,
exposing themself to the scenario that causes the most anxiety and panic.
For example, they may elect to give a long speech in front of 100
strangers. By diving right in and (one hopes) discovering that there are no
truly negative consequences, the person may find that they have “gotten
over it” and lesser forms of the same activity no longer give them anxiety.
It should be noted that this is rarely used, as it can easily overwhelm the
person instead and simply reinforce their anxious response.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, clients may find it difficult to even
begin to expose themselves to the simplest steps of their anxiety

hierarchy. Fortunately, consistent with research on observational learning
or “modelling” (see Module 6.3 ; Bandura, 1977; Olsson & Phelps,

2007), even less threatening steps of an anxiety hierarchy can be
established using other people instead of oneself in the anxiety-provoking
situation. Watching others engage in the anxiety-provoking situation

without suffering negative consequences can help people with severe
anxiety reactions, such as phobias, learn to tolerate some mild exposure

to the feared stimulus.
In a similar vein, recent advances in virtual reality technology are
providing new tools for therapists. For example, it is becoming possible to

help clients overcome fear reactions in a virtual setting, an advance that
holds exciting new possibilities.

Virtual Reality Therapies
Systematic desensitization techniques have long been a part of
behavioural treatments for fear and anxiety. However, there are

some key barriers that can prevent them from being effective. For
one, people with fear and anxiety about a specific object or
situation usually avoid any contact with it—so even taking the
first step toward a therapist’s office can be challenging. Also,

although mental imagery is typically the method employed with
these therapeutic techniques, it may not transfer well to the
actual anxiety-provoking situation because mental imagery may
not have the same power as the much more vivid, real situation.
Virtual reality technology is offering one potential way around

these problems.
What do we know about virtual reality

exposure?
Virtual reality exposure (VRE)  is a treatment that uses graphical
displays to create an experience in which the client seems to be
immersed in an actual environment. The virtual reality environment
is much more vivid than mental imagery. In fact, the realism of
the virtual worlds are improving quite rapidly as technology
companies improve their virtual reality devices for the gaming
industry. Importantly for psychology patients, VRE has shown
great promise in helping people learn to relax in the face of their

fears (Riva et al., 2016). Specifically, virtual reality therapy may
help to reduce a person’s tendency to use avoidance strategies
(Foa et al., 2006). As an example of VRE at work, over the past
decade, this technology has become increasingly common in
helping soldiers returning from military conflicts in Iraq and
Afghanistan—many of whom have developed posttraumatic
stress disorder (PTSD).
How can scientists study virtual reality

exposure?
Psychologists at Emory University in Atlanta have been using a
simulator called Virtual Iraq, which was developed to deliver two
possible scenarios—being in a Middle Eastern city or driving a
Humvee through a desert road in simulated war conditions
(Figure 16.2 ). The weather, time of day, background noise,
civilians, aerial craft, and ground vehicles can be programmed by

the therapist to change as desired during the exposure sessions.
There is also the option to provide simulated gunfire and bomb
explosions. Smell cues are available using an air compressor that
pumps in odours of burning rubber, garbage, diesel fuel, and
gunpowder (Cukor et al., 2009).
Figure 16.2 Virtual Reality Exposure

Combat veterans diagnosed with PTSD have participated in
virtual reality therapies involving simulated exposure to
traumatic events. Therapists work with clients to help them
process and cope with their fears.
Erika Schultz/MCT/Newscom
In one set of trials, 20 soldiers who were diagnosed with PTSD
following combat activity underwent VRE therapy. Their PTSD

symptoms were measured before and after therapists guided
them through VRE treatment in the Virtual Iraq simulator. At the

conclusion of their therapy, the soldiers’ PTSD symptoms
declined by 50%, with 16 of the soldiers no longer meeting the

criteria for the disorder (Rizzo et al., 2010). The results included
fewer disturbing thoughts about stressful events that occurred

during military service; fewer disturbing dreams; reduced
physical reactions such as heart pounding, sweating, and trouble
breathing; and less avoidance of activities that triggered

memories of military service. VRE using the Virtual Iraq simulator
appears to work.

From an experimental standpoint, this study should have used a
placebo (control) group that received no treatment, or a

comparison group that received some other treatment method. In
fact, such studies have recently occurred. In one study of U.S.
veterans who had served in Iraq or Afghanistan, the effectiveness

of VRE sessions was compared to the standard approaches (e.g.,
prolonged exposure therapy, among other standard treatments),
and the VRE approach outperformed the standard approaches
(McLay et al., 2011). However, VRE is not always the best
treatment for patients. A 2017 study found that for patients who
were experiencing combat-related PTSD, VRE was most effective
for younger males who were at risk for committing suicide and
who were not on antidepressant medications (Norr et al., 2017).
The fact that researchers can now identify the groups who would
benefit most from programs such as Virtual Iraq is important, as it
will provide psychologists and psychiatrists with more precise
information about which treatment is best for each patient.
It is not clear from these studies whether VRE therapy would be

beneficial for disorders other than PTSD. However, other
research has shown that virtual reality approaches are useful for
helping people in many circumstances, including symptom
reduction in people with various phobias (Opriş et al., 2012;
Powers & Emmelkamp, 2008), stress management in patients
with cancer (Schneider et al., 2011), and body image issues in
clients with eating disorders (Riva, 2005). Indeed, a recent review

of 14 VRE clinical trials found that this treatment technique
caused significant reductions in the symptoms of people who
experience phobias (Morina et al., 2015). These results suggest
that VRE treatments are a promising treatment option for a
number of psychological disorders.

Virtual reality technologies seem to help overcome key barriers to
therapeutic effectiveness. As discussed earlier regarding PTSD,
clients typically avoid any stimuli associated with the original

trauma, and therefore may be resistant to therapy that will
expose them to the trauma. VRE approaches can get around this
resistance because the therapist has precise control over the way
the client will be exposed to the feared situation and can

therefore easily tailor the approach to the client’s needs (Hodges
et al., 2001).
Aversive Conditioning
Most people have at least one behaviour they would like to reduce or
eliminate, perhaps a nervous habit such as fingernail biting or an
unhealthy behaviour such as smoking. Behavioural principles tell us that
these habits are maintained because they bring rewards in some fashion,
and thus, changing their rewarding nature can lead to changing the
behaviour itself (see Figure 16.3 ).
Figure 16.3 Aversive Conditioning

One method of treating patients who perform unhealthy behaviours such
as smoking is to use conditioning techniques. If an unhealthy behaviour
becomes associated with a negative outcome such as physical discomfort,
the individual may become less inclined to perform that behaviour.
Aversive conditioning  is a behavioural technique that involves replacing a
positive response to a stimulus with a negative response, typically by using
punishment. One aversive conditioning treatment involves using the drug
Antabuse (disulfiram) to reduce problem alcohol consumption. Antabuse
causes nausea and vomiting when combined with alcohol, so the drug
classically conditions an aversion to alcohol. Antabuse works for some

individuals, but there are several reasons why it is not entirely effective
(Garbutt, 2009). As you can imagine, the client must have a fairly strong
motivation to quit, and must be willing to take the drug knowing that it
would make them ill. If they cheat and skip the drug one day, then the
treatment will not have much chance of working. Thus, even though
aversive conditioning can help people quit, it can require a great deal of
willpower to use effectively.

The drug Antabuse is used in aversive conditioning for alcohol
consumption. When it is taken and the person subsequently consumes
alcohol, Antabuse causes nausea and vomiting. If successful, Antabuse
treatment leads to a conditioned aversion to alcohol.
Monika Olszewska/Shutterstock
Cognitive–Behavioural Therapies
Behavioural therapies, despite their effectiveness at changing problem
behaviours, do not directly address problematic thoughts. This is
extremely important because some disorders, such as depression, are
caused and maintained, in part, by dysfunctional habits of thinking. Two
psychodynamically trained psychologists, Albert Ellis (1962) and Aaron

Beck (1963), found that people with depression tend to interpret and
think about their lives in a negative light. As Ellis, Beck, and others
learned more about these thought patterns, it became apparent that
therapies should be directed at changing negative cognitions into more
realistic and rational thought patterns, as well as helping people learn to

control the physiological processes (e.g., arousal) that reinforce negative
thinking. Over time, this new approach became known as cognitive–
behavioural therapy.
Cognitive–behavioural therapy (CBT)  is a form of therapy that consists of

procedures such as cognitive restructuring, stress inoculation training, and
exposing people to experiences they may have a tendency to avoid, as in
systematic desensitization (NIMH, 2009). Because avoiding thoughts and
stressful situations tends to reinforce the negative feelings that would
arise, helping clients to face negativity allows them the opportunity to
gain insight into their feelings, to practise a courageous response to
negativity, and to learn methods for coping when negativity arises. This
type of therapy is far more about the present than about the past. Rather
than excavating past traumas or conflicts, CBT therapists help clients

become more aware of the thought, emotion, and behaviour patterns that
arise in their current lives. Through this heightened self-awareness,
clients learn to identify their habitual dysfunctional tendencies, and then
work on building more functional cognitive and behavioural habits.
At the behavioural end of CBT, clients are given exercises and guidance
in gaining skills they may be lacking. For example, as with systematic
desensitization, clients may learn relaxation techniques, enabling them to
better tolerate negative feelings when they arise. A person with social
anxiety who has difficulty integrating into social situations may learn and
practise certain social skills, such as making “small talk” with people at
parties or learning to be more responsive to people’s non-verbal cues.
At the cognitive end of CBT, clients are given exercises and strategies to
build more functional cognitive habits. Cognitive restructuring involves
learning to challenge negative thought patterns, to question self-defeating
beliefs, and to view situations in a different light. For example, people
with depression or anxiety disorders often hold extreme and irrational
beliefs, such as “I can’t do anything right,” “I have nothing worthwhile to

say,” “If I fail, it’s going to be a total disaster.” As they become more
aware of these negative beliefs, they can question or dispute them,

helping themselves appreciate that these beliefs are far more negative
than reality warrants. After all, nobody can do everything wrong; nobody
has literally nothing worthwhile to say; and a failure is not “the end of the
world,” so to speak, but is also an opportunity to learn and improve. An

example of applying CBT strategies to the cognitive symptoms of
depression is shown in Table 16.5 .
Table 16.5
Applying Cognitive–Behavioural Therapy to the Cognitive Symptoms of Depression
Of course, it falls to the client to put the behaviours learned in therapy
into practice—noting their automatic thought tendencies as they occur,

and then actively practising their cognitive strategies. As the client
practises interrupting old, harmful thought patterns and actively

cultivating new, healthier ones, the newer patterns should become more
easily activated, until eventually they become automatic themselves. In

contrast, the depressive thought patterns should fade with disuse,
becoming less easily activated over time.
The fact that these exercises change people’s functioning has been
dramatically demonstrated through neuroimaging studies, which show

substantial changes to neurological function after CBT (Frewen et al.,
2008). For example, one study at L’Institut Universitaire de Gériatrie de

Montréal showed that, before being treated with CBT, people suffering
from spider phobia showed activation in certain brain areas when

viewing pictures of spiders: part of the prefrontal cortex involved with
controlling emotional responses, and part of the hippocampus involved in

contextual fear memories. The activation of these two areas likely reflects
the automatic reactivation of fear memories that underlie the phobia, plus
the person’s attempt to override the fear response. After receiving CBT,
these areas were no longer active when subjects viewed spider pictures.
These neuroimaging results provide us with further evidence that CBT
can change a person’s thought processes (Paquette et al., 2003).
Watch In the Real World: Cognitive Behavioural Therapy
#Psych
Internet-Based Cognitive Behavioural Therapy
In Module 16.1 , you read about some of the obstacles that

prevent people from seeking and/or receiving treatment for
psychological disorders. One major obstacle relates to
location: if you live in a rural or remote area such as Northern
Canada, there are very few psychologists available. One way
that people are overcoming this obstacle is through the use of

internet-based cognitive behavioural therapy (ICBT). In some
forms of ICBT, patients interact with a psychologist over the
internet either through video-messaging programs such as
Skype or through written messages. The patients also receive
mental health “exercises” to complete that are specific to their
disorder. Other forms of ICBT are entirely computer-based, with

individuals going through a series of exercises (e.g., Proudfoot
et al., 2004). A comparison of the two forms of ICBT found that
interacting with a trained professional, even via email, leads to
better outcomes (Titov et al., 2010). When done properly, ICBT

can be effective for some, but not all, populations (Webb et al.,
2017). In a review of 29 clinical trials, researchers found that
ICBT was more effective for females than males and for people
with higher levels of education than for people with less
schooling. It was also more useful for treating depression than

anxiety disorders, particularly if the symptoms were not severe
(Rozental et al., 2019). One trend that is particularly promising
given the high rates of substance abuse in remote communities
is the fact that ICBT appears effective for treating adult

problem drinking (Riper et al., 2018).
A number of smart phone apps have also been developed for

people seeking treatment for psychological disorders. These
apps are incredibly convenient, but the quality of treatment and
the usefulness of the programs vary widely across apps.
Interested readers should definitely look into whether the apps

are monitored by trained psychologists or psychiatrists and
whether users can speak to a therapist if their symptoms
worsen.
Internet-based therapies are useful ways for people in remote
communities to receive treatment via their computer. Ideally,
these treatments would include some form of feedback from a
trained psychologist. A number of phone apps have also
recently been developed. Although these apps are cheap and
convenient, it is worth noting that if an individual is
experiencing severe distress, they should contact a psychologist
rather than relying on an app.
Kelsey Olson/Shutterstock
Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy
One of the biggest recent advances in therapeutic practice, spearheaded
by researchers at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto,
is mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MBCT) , a technique that
combines mindfulness meditation with standard cognitive–behavioural therapy
tools. In this groundbreaking area of clinical research, East meets West

and ancient meets modern, as traditional spiritual practices merge with
modern psychological therapies and neuroscientific understanding (see
Figure 16.4 ).
Figure 16.4 Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy
Mindfulness-based cognitive therapy is a relatively new treatment

method for some psychological disorders. It involves teaching patients
elements of mindfulness while also having them complete treatment
sessions with a psychologist.
Mindfulness practice and cognitive–behavioural therapy begin in
somewhat similar ways—the goal of each is to get the client better
acquainted with their thoughts and feelings, in the present moment of
experiencing them. But after this emphasis on increased self-awareness,
the two approaches differ significantly. In CBT, there is a basic orientation
of fixing themself. The purpose of becoming aware of a person’s patterns
of thoughts, feelings, and behaviours is to gain greater control so that the
negative patterns get replaced with more positive ones. In contrast, the
practice of mindfulness involves consciously adopting an orientation of
accepting themself fully. Strictly speaking, from a mindfulness perspective,

you don’t necessarily have to do anything about problematic thoughts
and feelings. Instead, you make the active choice to accept them as they
are, to simply observe them without reacting.
It may sound like “just watching yourself” isn’t doing very much.
However, it is in fact a highly active and intentional process. In order to
be able to watch yourself without reacting to the thoughts and feelings
that arise, you must consciously choose, again and again, to take an
attitude of openness and acceptance toward yourself. A useful acronym to

remember the elements of mindfulness is COAL—curious, open,
accepting, and loving (Siegel, 2007). COAL is, essentially, the same
attitude that parents take toward children in order to help them develop
emotional security.
A second key way in which mindfulness affects a person is through the

experience of decentring , which occurs when a person is able to “step back”
from their normal consciousness and examine themselves more objectively, as

an observer. For example, you may be dancing but then you suddenly
become acutely aware of yourself dancing, as though you are looking at
yourself from a third-person perspective. The ability to decentre is a

powerful antidote to difficult thoughts and feelings. By stepping back
from your own thoughts and feelings and observing them dispassionately,
you detach yourself from the damaging or troubling consequences of your
thoughts (Kabat-Zinn, 1994). This can be similar to watching a young
child (or politician) have a temper tantrum. Because you are not
“attached” to the child’s thoughts and feelings (let’s assume), their anger
doesn’t affect you in the same way. You have some distance from it,
which allows you to think more clearly and decide on the best way to
respond to the situation, whereas the child is too caught up in emotions

to be able to gain that cognitive control.
Practising mindfulness can lead to changes in white-matter pathways

connecting brain areas related to affective and anxiety disorders,
including the amygdala, hippocampus, and anterior cingulate gyrus

(Laneri et al., 2016). It is also associated with a number of cognitive
benefits, including improvements in attentional control and emotional

regulation (Jha et al., 2007; Lutz et al., 2008). Combining these positive
effects with the well-established technique of CBT could provide patients

with a number of coping strategies to help them overcome their
psychological disorder. Initial studies of MBCT suggest it is beneficial for

social anxiety disorder and generalized anxiety (Evans et al., 2008; Piet et
al., 2010), bipolar disorder (Weber et al., 2010), depression (Kingston et
al., 2007), hypochondriasis (persistent fear or anxiety about having an

illness) (McManus et al., 2012), and suicidal ideation (Crane & Williams,
2010). Mindfulness exercises are excellent tools for encouraging people to

become more growth-oriented, and they are adaptable to both individual
therapy and therapy in group settings.

Group and Family Therapies
In some situations, clients may benefit from participating in group
therapy sessions. Group members share their personal stories and
experiences, and the bonding and support that occur in this context can
be very powerful. To encourage people to open up to each other,
therapists may group people together based on the issue that they are
dealing with (e.g., alcohol addiction, divorce) or other similarities (e.g.,
age, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, etc.). A final, logistic advantage
to group therapy is the cost, which is usually much cheaper than
individual therapy. This makes group therapy accessible to a broad range
of people across society.
In other situations, psychologists may conduct family therapy. This may
occur if a client’s difficulties stem from or are reinforced by unhealthy
dynamics within the family. For example, people with schizophrenia are
far less likely to have their symptoms stay in remission if their families
exhibit negative patterns of communication and emotional involvement
(Hooley, 2007). Thus, family therapy may be extremely effective for
helping people with schizophrenia, generally in conjunction with anti-
psychotic drug treatments. Family therapy may also be used to help
families deal with specific family members who are highly dysfunctional
in some way, such as being addicted or having poor emotional control.
Family therapists generally take a systems approach , an orientation that
encourages therapists to see an individual’s symptoms as being influenced by

many interacting systems. One important system is the family system,
which can play a big role in the development and maintenance of
psychological disorders. For example, imagine a family in which one
person is emotionally abusive and controls the other family members by
becoming excessively angry. A therapist taking a systems approach would
see that behaviour pattern as affecting not only the individual themselves,
but also the other family members (see Figure 16.5 ). For example, the
other family members may constantly monitor that person and carefully
choose their own behaviours so as to avoid making that person angry. Or
the family may stop inviting other people to the house, allowing the
angry person to isolate the family within the community. Or the family
members may be too quick to forgive or to apologize themselves and
accept the blame whenever the angry person loses their temper, rather
than challenging the person and being clear about what the family will
and will not tolerate. There are many different ways in which family
members contribute to the maintenance of a dysfunctional pattern of
behaviour, and a family systems therapist would therefore treat the
individual by also working with the other family members to change the
larger patterns that reinforce the problematic behaviours.
Figure 16.5 The Systems Approach to Family Therapy
Each member of a stable, functioning family unit has strong connections

with the other (left figure). However, if one or more members of the
family are experiencing psychological disorders, it can have an effect on
the other family members and their relationships (right figure).
Evaluating Cognitive–Behavioural
Therapies
Behavioural therapies have been shown to be particularly effective at
treating symptoms associated with anxiety disorders, such as obsessive-
compulsive disorder and specific phobias (Chambless & Ollendick, 2001).

They have also proved useful for increasing behavioural skills (e.g., social
skills) and decreasing problematic behaviours (e.g., social withdrawal).
Cognitive–behavioural therapy has been quite effective in treating
depression, which is not too surprising given that this method of therapy
was specifically developed for this purpose (Hollon et al., 2002). A review
of several clinical trials found that CBT was as effective as antidepressant
medications for treating acute cases of depression (Amick et al., 2015).
Neuroimaging research on people with depression showed that both
antidepressant drug (SSRI) and CBT treatments affect activity in similar

brain areas (Sankar & Fu, 2016), suggesting that these different
approaches target similar neural processes. CBT has also been successful
in treating conditions like anxiety, obesity, and eating disorders. In fact,
CBT is the most effective treatment currently available for anxiety
disorders, particularly over the long term, even outperforming antianxiety
medications for most adult anxiety disorders (Hofmann & Smits, 2008).
Furthermore, the effects last much longer than the effects of drugs, which
often are effective only so long as the person remains on the medication
(Hollon et al., 2006). In many cases, rather than taking an either/or

approach, the best outcomes have been found by combining drug
treatments with cognitive–behavioural therapy. This has been found for
several different disorders, including panic disorder with agoraphobia
(Starcevic et al., 2004) and depression (McCullough, 2000).
Generally speaking, cognitive and behavioural therapies are the
workhorses of psychological treatments. They are quite versatile in their
applications and can help to treat a wide variety of disorders. They also
take much less time (and are therefore much less expensive) than
psychodynamic approaches, and have none of the undesirable side effects
of drug treatments. Nevertheless, different treatments work better for

different people, and it is worth remembering that for any given person, it
is currently impossible to know ahead of time which treatment or
combination of treatments will be most effective.

Module 16.2 Summary
16.2a Know . . . the key terminology related to psychological

therapies.
Review Module 16.2
16.2b Understand . . . the general approaches to conducting

major types of psychological therapy.
Psychoanalysis works by uncovering hidden conflicts, whereas
humanistic therapy focuses on removing conditions of worth that can

hinder a person’s growth. Behavioural and cognitive therapies target
dysfunctional thought and behaviour patterns, seeking to replace
undesirable patterns with more functional ones that clients then practise
regularly. Group and family therapies have also been developed and work
with social systems that are larger than one individual.
16.2c Apply . . . your knowledge to identify major therapeutic

techniques.
Apply Activity
Review Applying Therapy Styles
16.2d Analyze . . . the pros and cons of the major types of

psychological therapy.
Table 16.6  summarizes the pros and cons of the major forms of therapy
discussed in this module.

Table 16.6 Pros and Cons of the Major Types of Therapy
Module 16.3 Biomedical Therapies
VINCENT MONCORGE/LOOK AT SCIENCES/SCIENCE PHOTO LIBRARY
16.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with biological
treatments.
16.3b Understand . . . how the drugs described in this module affect
brain functioning.
16.3c Understand . . . the other major medical approaches to therapy.
16.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of different therapies to different
psychological conditions.
16.3e Analyze . . . whether MDMA (Ecstasy) is an effective treatment

for posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
May 13, 2003, was a windy and rainy Tuesday morning, but the
atmosphere inside the operating theatre in a downtown Toronto
hospital was anything but chilly. Neurosurgeon Andres Lozano and his
neurologist collaborator, Helen Mayberg, were about to make history.
Using a technique known as deep brain stimulation, Lozano, Mayberg,
and their colleagues were planning to alter the activity of a very specific
brain area in order to reduce the symptoms of a patient with severe
depression (Mayberg et al., 2005). This area, know as the subgenual

cingulate gyrus, is located just below the front of the corpus callosum.
Neuroimaging research had found that its activity differed in people
with depression (Mayberg et al., 1999).
The mood in the operating theatre was tense. After the first electrode
stimulated the patient’s brain, nothing happened. But the next electrode
changed everything. When it was turned on—even at very low voltage

—the patient reported feeling lighter and calmer, and said it was like
spring was finally arriving (Frank, 2018). When the electricity was
turned off, the feeling vanished. Mayberg and her colleagues had
discovered a way to improve the negative feelings associated with
depression.
However, it is important to note that not all patients showed such
dramatic effects. The biology underlying psychological disorders is quite
complex and no treatment is guaranteed to work for everyone. In this

module, we discuss the various biomedical methods used by clinicians
and researchers in their attempt to help patients with psychological

disorders.
The biomedical approach to treating disorders involves using drugs,

surgery, or other medical procedures in order to alter the functioning of
the central nervous system to correct what is believed to be the

underlying biological problem. Psychopharmacotherapy —the use of
drugs to manage or reduce clients’ symptoms—is by far the most frequently

used biomedical option, and is often employed in conjunction with some
form of psychological therapy. Other options, such as surgery or

electrically stimulating the brain, are typically used only in situations
where no other available treatments have succeeded. In this module, we
explore and evaluate each of these biomedical treatment options and

examine how they may be used in conjunction with other forms of
therapy.
Drug Treatments
Psychotropic drugs  are medications designed to alter psychological

functioning. Drug approaches were first predominantly used in
institutional and clinical settings, generally targeting very severe cases.
However, in more recent decades, psychotropic drugs have become a
common treatment for many people experiencing even mild

psychological problems and symptoms. This expansion has made certain
psychotropic drugs, such as those used to treat depression, among the
most prescribed forms of medicine (Olfson & Marcus, 2009).
Psychotropic drugs have been developed to take many different courses
of action. First, all psychotropic drugs are designed to cross the blood–
brain barrier , a network of tightly packed cells that only allow specific types
of substances to move from the bloodstream to the brain in order to protect
delicate brain cells against harmful infections and other substances (see Figure
16.6 ). After crossing this barrier, psychotropic drugs then affect one or
more neurotransmitters. The specific neurotransmitter(s) targeted by a
drug will determine which disorders will be responsive to that
medication.
Figure 16.6 How Psychotropic Drugs Reach the Brain

In order to affect the brain in the desired way, psychotropic drugs must
cross the blood–brain barrier, a network of densely packed cells that
restrict the flow of substances between the capillaries and brain cells.
Antidepressants
As the name suggests, antidepressant drugs  are medications designed to
reduce symptoms of depression. In general, antidepressant drugs target areas
of the brain that, when functioning normally, are rich in monoamine
neurotransmitters—serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine. Since
multiple neurotransmitters are involved, antidepressants come in several

varieties, each with its own way of altering brain chemistry (Figure
16.7 ).
The first type of antidepressant to be developed and widely used were
monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs) , which work by deactivating

monoamine oxidase (MAO), an enzyme that breaks down serotonin, dopamine,
and norepinephrine at the synaptic clefts of nerve cells (see Figure 16.7 ).
When MAO is inhibited, fewer dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine
neurotransmitters are metabolized (i.e., broken down into smaller
molecules), which in turn leaves more of them available for synaptic

transmission. Although MAOIs often effectively relieve symptoms of
depression, they are used less frequently than other antidepressants, in
part because they can cause many side effects, some quite dangerous,
especially when they interact with other medications and certain types of
foods (e.g., aged cheeses, smoked meats, alcoholic beverages).
Another early type of antidepressant were the tricyclic antidepressants ,
drugs that block the reuptake of serotonin and norepinephrine (Figure 16.7 ).
Unfortunately, they also seem to cause many undesirable side effects,
including nausea, weight gain, sexual dysfunction, and even seizures.
Figure 16.7 Antidepressant Effects at the Synapse
The major antidepressant drugs have different ways of increasing the

transmission of neurotransmitters such as serotonin, dopamine, and
norepinephrine at the synapses.
Given the severity of the side effects associated with MAOIs and tricyclic
antidepressants, it should come as no surprise that both patients and

physicians were eager for a new form of antidepressant to become
available. In 1987, one such drug arrived: fluoxetine (also known as
Prozac). Prozac is a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) , a

class of antidepressant drugs that block the reuptake of serotonin. Blocking
reuptake means that more serotonin will remain in the synapse, thus
allowing it to continue to affect the postsynaptic neurons. SSRIs alleviate
some proportion of the symptoms of depression in some users and have

been the most commonly prescribed form of antidepressants since the
1980s. However, it should be noted that SSRIs do not work for everyone
and that some individuals experience side effects, including changes in

sleep patterns and sex drive.
SSRIs, as well as similar drugs that affect the neurotransmitter
norepinephrine (SNRIs), have a number of effects on the brain,

particularly on the amygdala, hippocampus, prefrontal cortex, and
nucleus accumbens (a reward centre). Early neuroimaging research found
that SSRIs lead to decreased activity in the amygdala, a brain area

involved with intense emotional responses such as fear (Sheline et al.,
2001). The activity of SSRIs in other areas is slightly more complex. In the
hippocampus, antidepressants stimulate the expression of genes that
control the release of growth factors, chemicals that promote the formation
of new neurons and new synapses (Nibuya et al., 1996). In other words,
SSRIs and SNRIs stimulate neurogenesis in the hippocampus; this

suggests that improvements in mood and cognition might be related to
neuroplasticity (Kraus et al., 2017). Importantly, output from the

hippocampus influences the activity of the nucleus accumbens and
prefrontal cortex. So, altering the activity of the hippocampus can lead to
increased activity in “reward centres” in the brain (Willner et al., 2013);

changes in these systems are likely related to patients finding everyday
activities to be rewarding again. The fact that SSRIs and SNRIs can both
lead to neurogenesis and neuroplasticity may explain why these drugs
usually take a few weeks to affects patients’ moods—it takes time for new
cells to develop in the hippocampus and to become part of complex
networks involving other brain areas affected by depression.
Myths in Mind
Antidepressant Drugs Are Happiness Pills
A common belief is that antidepressants are happiness in pill
form—that their chemical magic can not only cause depression

to disappear, but can also bring on optimism and a rush of
positive emotion. In reality, antidepressant drugs can alleviate

depression (in some individuals), but they do not make people
happier than they were before becoming depressed.
The “happiness pill” misconception about antidepressants has

led some individuals to believe that taking a high dose of
antidepressants will induce a euphoric high, much like cocaine

or heroin. This is also a myth. Although some people have
attempted to abuse antidepressants by taking high doses
(even crushing and snorting them for quicker delivery to the
brain), there is no evidence that an intense rush of happiness
results. In fact, as noted in the previous section of this module,

SSRIs typically take a couple of weeks to work. Taking a high
dose, or snorting crushed-up pills, neither magnifies their
effects nor reduces the two-week waiting period before effects
become evident.
In short, antidepressants are not “happiness pills” and should
not be taken by people who are merely looking to boost their

mood.
At this point, we have discussed both the mechanisms and the limitations
of antidepressants. But this discussion has been limited to the types of
medications that are prescribed by physicians. As you will see in the next
section, these are not the only types of remedies available to people
trying to cope with depression.

Herbal Treatments
People often make the assumption that biomedical therapies are limited
to prescription drugs. In reality, people frequently self-prescribe and
administer alternative treatments for conditions such as depression. For
example, many individuals take herbal treatments such as St. John’s wort
as an alternative to antidepressants. Although such herbal remedies often

seem harmless, it is important to remember that these substances can
affect neurotransmitters in the same manner as prescription drugs. St.
John’s wort (Hypericum perforatum) appears to influence several of the
neurotransmitter systems that are altered by traditional antidepressant
medications, including serotonin (Butterweck, 2003). However, its most

prominent effect appears to be on the levels of epinephrine, a chemical
associated with emotional arousal and stress responses. Several studies
have shown that St. John’s wort causes epinephrine receptors to down-
regulate (move farther away from the synapse; De Marchis et al., 2006;
Jakobs et al., 2013). This reduces the impact that epinephrine has on the
nervous system. St. John’s wort also inhibits the release of glutamate, the
brain’s primary excitatory neurotransmitter (Chang & Wang, 2010). As
you can see, this seemingly simple herbal remedy has fairly complicated
effects on the brain.

St. John’s wort is a commonly used alternative to antidepressants.
Researchers have found that it affects two neurotransmitters related to
depression and anxiety: serotonin and epinephrine. However, St. John’s
wort does interact with other medications, so potential users should
consult with their physician before taking this drug.
ArtCookStudio/Shutterstock
Clinical studies of St. John’s wort suggest that this herbal medicine can
have positive effects. A recent meta-analysis of 35 experiments involving
6993 patients found that St. John’s wort led to reduced levels of
depression when compared to placebos. Importantly, it was just as
effective as traditional antidepressants, but with fewer side effects

(Apaydin et al., 2016). And, in 2016, the Canadian Network for Mood and
Anxiety Treatments (CANMAT) stated that St. John’s wort is an effective
treatment for mild to moderate depression (Ravindran et al., 2016).
That said, people should still exercise caution when using herbal
remedies. Any potential users of these treatments should consult research
databases such as PubMed or PsychINFO to see if psychologists or

medical researchers have investigated the treatment. They should also
note that the quality of the herbal remedies is not standardized or
carefully regulated by government agencies, which adds a lot of

uncertainty about the effectiveness of alternative treatments (Klaus et al.,
2008). Also, given that herbal remedies can influence neurotransmitters,

these substances can also interact poorly with other medications that an
individual is taking (Borrelli & Izzo, 2009). Therefore, it is important for

healthcare providers to know all of the substances that a patient is taking.
Mood Stabilizers
In contrast to antidepressants, which are primarily used to treat
depression (unipolar disorder), mood stabilizers  are drugs used to
prevent or reduce the severity of mood swings experienced by people with bipolar
disorder. Lithium  was one of the first mood stabilizers to be prescribed
regularly in psychiatry, and from the 1950s to the 1980s was the standard drug
treatment for depression and bipolar disorder. Lithium, a salt compound, can
be quite effective, but it can also be toxic to the kidneys and endocrine
system. Today, doctors generally prefer to prescribe other drugs because
they seem to be more effective and safer than lithium (Thase & Denko,
2008). For example, people with bipolar disorder now often take
anticonvulsant medications such as valproate (with brand names like
Depakote) or antipsychotic medications (such as the brand names Abilify
or Latuda). Although these medicines can be effective in preventing
manic episodes, they are also associated with side effects like weight gain,
nausea, and fatigue. In rare cases, very serious side effects occur,
including brain damage due to elevated levels of ammonia in the blood
(Wadzinski et al., 2007).

Antianxiety Drugs
Sometimes referred to as tranquilizers, antianxiety drugs  affect the
activity of gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA), an inhibitory neurotransmitter
that reduces neural activity. These drugs are prescribed to alleviate
nervousness and tension, and to prevent and reduce panic attacks.
Widely prescribed examples include alprazolam (Xanax), diazepam

(Valium), and lorazepam (Ativan). These drugs appear to temporarily
alter the structure of GABA receptors, allowing more GABA molecules to
inhibit neural activity. The effects of antianxiety drugs are relatively short-
lived. They take effect within minutes of ingestion and may last for only a
few hours. Given that these drugs facilitate inhibition of the nervous
system, it is not surprising that their side effects include drowsiness,
tiredness, and impaired attention, especially when they are taken at high
doses. More serious side effects include memory impairments,
depression, and decreased sex drive. These drugs also have the potential
to induce abuse and withdrawal symptoms. Therefore, like other

medications, antianxiety drugs should only be taken in consultation with
a physician.
Using MDMA (Ecstasy) to Treat Posttraumatic

Stress Disorder (PTSD)
Although both talk-based therapies and medications can help
many individuals with psychological disorders, there are some

conditions that are resistant to many of these traditional
approaches. For example, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is
a severe form of anxiety disorder that can occur after someone
has experienced a traumatic event. Its symptoms generally
involve heightened levels of physiological arousal, increased
vigilance for stimuli related to the trauma, and frequent

memories of the traumatic event. The severity of these symptoms
makes PTSD a challenging condition to treat. However, in the
past two decades, researchers have begun innovative lines of
research examining whether MDMA, a chemical associated with
positive emotional responses (and the active ingredient in the
drug Ecstasy), could be used to help these patients.
What do we know about using MDMA to

treat PTSD?
Treatment programs that use MDMA include a number of
different components. The first group of therapy sessions does
not include MDMA. Rather, the patient and therapist(s) complete
traditional talk-based sessions in which the patient discusses
their experiences. During these appointments, the therapists and

patients talk about how MDMA can affect people; the goal is to
prepare the patient for the subsequent MDMA sessions. The
second component of the treatment program consists of one or
more day-long sessions in which the patient takes a dose of pure
MDMA (i.e., not the tablets you might find at clubs). A male and
female therapist then spend the day with the patient, with the
aim of making the patient feel comfortable in their environment
(Carhart-Harris et al., 2018). This session is non-directive,
meaning that the therapists simply tell the patient to “go with the
experience” rather than focusing on specific topics related to their

PTSD (Sessa et al., 2019). The increase in empathy and trust that
occurs when a person takes MDMA is assumed to break down
social barriers for the patient, which can improve the therapeutic
alliance with the therapists. The final component of this form of
treatment involves multiple non-drug sessions that occur after
the MDMA sessions. In these sessions, the therapists discussed
the experiences that the patient had while on the drug. These
experiences can include new insights the patient may have had
while on MDMA as well as new topics that were broached during

the session due to the improved bond the patient felt with the
therapists.
What have scientific studies found about

MDMA and PTSD?
The first clinical study of MDMA-assisted therapy was published
in 2011 (Mithoefer et al., 2011). It consisted of 20 patients with

PTSD who had not responded to previous treatments. All of the
participants completed a treatment program similar to the one

just described; however, half of the patients received two or three
MDMA sessions while the control group received two or three

sessions with a placebo drug. The results were stunning—after
the final treatment session, 83% of the patients in the MDMA

group no longer met the criteria for PTSD, whereas only 25% of
the placebo group showed improvement (see Figure 16.8 ).
Subsequent studies showed similar results (Oehen et al., 2013).

Importantly, a follow-up of patients in the original study found
that this recovery was long-lasting (Mithoefer et al., 2013).
Figure 16.8 Clinical Effects of MDMA
The first clinical study of MDMA-assisted psychotherapy for

PTSD showed great promise. Patients who received MDMA as
part of their treatment were much more likely to recover from
PTSD than patients who received a placebo.
Scientists have performed a number of studies that may explain
these impressive clinical results. An fMRI experiment with

healthy participants (i.e., not PTSD patients) found that MDMA
reduced the amount of temporal-lobe activity that occurred when

people recalled their worst autobiographical memory (Carhart-
Harris et al., 2014). This result may be due to the fact that MDMA
stimulates the release of serotonin, which in turn leads to
decreased activity in the amygdala, a brain area related to
negative emotional responses (Graeff et al., 1996).
MDMA also stimulates the release of norepinephrine and
dopamine. These changes lead to an increase in alertness and

attentional engagement (Hysek et al., 2011), which may lead to
improved concentration during therapy. Norepinephrine had an
additional effect that is particularly important for PTSD patients:
It can promote fear extinction (Quirk & Mueller, 2008). In PTSD,

individuals learn to associate different stimuli (e.g., sirens and
flashing lights) with a traumatic event (e.g., a car accident). The
increased norepinephrine release that occurs when MDMA is
consumed can help alter these learned associations so that the

trauma-related stimuli no longer cause the patients to relive their
traumatic event (Feduccia & Mithoefer, 2018; Young et al., 2015).

Although MDMA treatments for PTSD show great promise,
opponents of its use do raise some important concerns. The first
relates to the safety of the MDMA itself. MDMA is the active
ingredient in Ecstasy, a popular recreational drug (see Module

5.3 ). The Government of Canada has listed a number of
potential dangers associated with both short-term and long-term
Ecstasy use (Government of Canada, 2018). However, it is
important to note that the MDMA used in clinical settings is pure,

whereas Ecstasy is often contaminated with other substances.
The pure form of MDMA has not been linked with any lasting
impairments in physical or mental health (Ludewig et al., 2003).
A related concern is that providing vulnerable individuals with a

psychedelic substance seems dangerous and could lead to
addiction. Of course, the therapists are accurately aware of this

issue. Patients are required to complete non-drug sessions prior
to and after the MDMA sessions so that the therapists can help
them work through their MDMA experiences so that the patients
think about the drug as a treatment rather than as a way to

escape their pain. This strategy appears to have been successful;
researchers have found that patients seldom use MDMA
recreationally after they have completed therapy for PTSD
(Mithoefer et al., 2013).

PTSD is a very challenging psychological disorder to treat.
Although exposure therapies can be successful for some

individuals, others do not respond to this form of treatment.
Therefore, having additional techniques that are available for
people who do not recover after traditional treatment is
important. MDMA appears to be one such option. In the past few
years, an international team of researchers, including a group in

Canada, has been performing clinical trials of MDMA-assisted
psychotherapy. It is now in the final phase of testing before
receiving approval from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration
(FDA) and European Medicines Agencies (EMA). (Approval from

Health Canada would likely soon follow). The goal is for licensed
MDMA therapists to be able to legally use this substance in
clinical settings as early as 2021. At that point, although Ecstasy
would still be an illegal substance, pure MDMA would be
considered to be a medicine (Sessa et al., 2019).

Antipsychotic Drugs
Antipsychotic drugs  are generally used to treat symptoms of psychosis,
including delusions, hallucinations, and severely disturbed or disorganized
thought. Antipsychotics are the common treatment for schizophrenia and
are sometimes prescribed to people with severe mood disorders. There
are several classes of antipsychotic drugs.
The first generation of antipsychotic medications (e.g., Thorazine,
Halodol) was designed to block dopamine receptors, because symptoms
of schizophrenia are related to dopamine activity in the frontal lobes and
basal ganglia. However, these drugs had significant side effects, such as
seizures, anxiety, nausea, and impotence. One of the more severe and
often permanent side effects, tardive dyskinesia , is a movement disorder
involving involuntary movements and facial tics.
Newer antipsychotic medications, known as atypical antipsychotics  or

second-generation antipsychotics, are less likely to produce side effects,
including movement disorders (like tardive dyskinesia), that commonly occur
with first-generation antipsychotics. Different atypical antipsychotics vary in
their exact effects, but generally speaking they seem to work by affecting
dopamine and serotonin transmission. These medications work for
approximately half of the people who take them, reducing the severity of
symptoms but not necessarily eliminating them altogether (Leucht et al.,
2009). Unfortunately, their effects tend to weaken over time, and also
come with some risk. For example, Clozapine, a very effective

antipsychotic drug, compromises the body’s white blood cells. People
who take Clozapine must have their blood regularly monitored to ensure
that the treatment for their psychological disorder isn’t compromising
other systems in their body.
Review Activity
Evaluating Drug Therapies
Many people believe that drugs are designed to target the root physical
causes of psychological disorders, and that they should always be more
effective than psychological approaches to therapy. However, these
beliefs are not warranted. Although some disorders, like schizophrenia,
generally require drug treatments, other disorders can be treated with

drugs, therapy, or a combination of both.
Take the example of depression. The use of antidepressants has become
increasingly accepted among the general public. Approximately 50% to
60% of people who take antidepressants improve within a few months—

compared to 30% of people who improve after taking a placebo (Hollon
et al., 2002). Interestingly, about 50% to 60% of people also improve from
psychological therapy. Thus, we cannot conclude that drugs are more
effective or should replace other approaches to therapy.
In other cases, such as most anxiety disorders, psychological treatments
such as cognitive–behavioural therapy (Module 16.2 ) are generally the
most effective treatment (Hofmann & Smits, 2008). A key advantage of
CBT is that the effects last long after the treatment is completed (Hollon
et al., 2006), whereas antianxiety medications typically are effective only
as long as the client maintains the drug regimen. The superior long-term
effect of CBT over drugs has been found for generalized anxiety disorder
(Hofmann & Smits, 2008) and panic disorder (Barlow et al., 2000).
In many situations, a combination of treatment approaches may work
best. For example, combining psychological therapy with antidepressants
has been shown to be more effective in treating major depression than
medication alone (Burnand et al., 2002; de Jonghe et al., 2001). A similar
pattern is found for some anxiety disorders. Combining drugs with CBT is
more effective for panic disorder with agoraphobia than either treatment
on its own (Starcevic et al., 2004).
Even schizophrenia, which is often viewed to be an organic “brain
disease,” is more effectively treated by combined approaches. People with

schizophrenia tend to have difficulty in self-reflecting, projecting
themselves into the past and future (D’Argembeau et al., 2008), engaging
in basic self-care, and integrating into regular social life. Although drugs
may reduce many symptoms, additional therapy using psychological
approaches has been shown to have a huge impact on reducing the
likelihood of experiencing further schizophrenic episodes. Some research
has shown that the likelihood of experiencing future schizophrenic
episodes is affected even more strongly by social factors, such as how
much negative emotion and hostility are expressed in the family, than by
whether the person with schizophrenia takes their medication (Hooley &
Gotlib, 2000). Clearly, even disorders that are generally viewed as

predominantly biological are better understood from a biopsychosocial
perspective, because they involve not only straightforward biological

mechanisms, but also thoughts, feelings, behaviours, and social
relationships.
Technological and Surgical Methods
Although many drug therapies show great promise in helping patients—

either alone or when combined with therapy—they do have a major
limitation: The neurotransmitters that are affected by psychotropic drugs
are often found in a number of different brain areas. So, although a given
disorder might be primarily due to the dysfunction of a few brain areas,

the activity of other neural structures will also be affected by medications
(Willner et al., 2013). The challenge for researchers is to find techniques
that can alter the activity of specific brain areas while leaving other areas
alone. Fortunately, researchers have identified a number of additional
biomedical treatments, ranging from direct surgical interventions to
stimulation of brain areas using magnetic pulses. Today, these types of

procedures tend to be quite safe and are carefully tested and scrutinized,
although this has not always been the case.

Early Surgical Techniques
You have likely heard of the frontal lobotomy , surgically severing the
connections between different regions of the brain; however, you may not
know the full, rather chilling, story behind it. Back as far as the 1800s,
neurologists experimented with this practice in the hope of “curing”
psychological problems. By the 1930s, researchers discovered that by

damaging the prefrontal areas of aggressive chimpanzees, the animals
would become calmer and more controllable. When Portuguese surgeon
Antonio Moniz heard about this at a conference, he thought it might be
useful for helping people with severe psychoses and other disorders
(Boettcher & Menacho, 2017). He helped to develop the leucotomy , the

surgical destruction of brain tissues in the prefrontal cortex. Drilling small
holes into the skull, Moniz would typically insert a small wire loop, a
leucotome, through the holes and into the brain matter; a few flips of the
wrist later, the surgery was complete and the patient was left to “recover.”
Moniz himself had some success with the procedure, reporting a general
improvement in the symptoms of several severely depressed, anxious, or
otherwise disturbed people, and recommended it as a treatment of last
resort when all other methods have failed. But then the technique was
popularized and turned into a veritable industry by an enterprising
American surgeon, Dr. Walter Freeman. Freeman and his collaborator,
Dr. James Watts, further refined the lobotomy (as he called the procedure)
for about a decade, until he learned of a new method, developed in Italy,

for getting into the brain without having to drill holes in the skull. The
secret entrance was right through the eye sockets.
Based on this insight, Freeman developed the trans-orbital lobotomy,
which became known as the icepick lobotomy. Freeman would insert a
slender metal shaft, like an icepick, in between the eyeball and eyelid,
then would tap it with a hammerthrough the bony roof of the eye socket
and into the brain. Then he would move it around until the frontal lobes
were detached from the rest of the brain (Valenstein, 1973). He was even
able to perform this brain-slicing without anesthesia, by first inducing a

seizure in the patient through an electroconvulsive shock. Freeman
believed the procedure to be miraculously successful. He became a
passionate advocate for the lobotomy, and because he was able to
perform them so quickly, often more than a dozen in a single day, he
travelled around the country in his van, the “lobotomobile,” lobotomizing
several thousand people in total. His procedure was always controversial,
seen as a miraculous cure by some and as a barbaric practice by others. It
led to numerous cognitive and emotional side effects and, in some
instances, ruptured blood vessels and brain damage. The mortality rate
was 5% (Valenstein, 1997). Nevertheless, Freeman was a medical
celebrity for a while, and toured the country teaching his technique to
many doctors and psychiatrists. In total, approximately 40 000 lobotomies
are believed to have been performed in the United States and thousands
more in western Europe. Although the number of lobotomies performed
in Canada is unknown, researchers estimate that over 1000 individuals

underwent this procedure (Simmons, 1990). In fact, 763 lobotomies were
performed in two Southern Ontario facilities alone (Collins, 2012).
Freeman was eventually barred from practising, although not until 1967.
And despite the protestations of many people, the man who started it all,
Antonio Moniz, was awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine in 1949.
Walter Freeman performing a frontal lobotomy surgery.
Bettmann/Getty Images
Focal Lesions
By the 1950s, the popularity of the frontal lobotomy was dwindling
rapidly. The inconsistent and often very negative results of the procedure,
and the effectiveness of new psychotropic medications, convinced
surgeons and psychiatrists to move away from the lobotomy.
Nevertheless, the basic practice of therapeutically destroying brain tissue

survives to this day, although the techniques are now vastly more refined
and precise.
One set of techniques involves performing focal lesions , which are small
areas of brain tissue that are surgically destroyed. These brain lesions are
only used in severe cases, when all other treatments have not worked to
satisfaction. For example, in some cases of depression and anxiety
disorders, lesion surgery has been targeted at a cluster of cells in the
anterior cingulate cortex, an area that is overactive in people with these
disorders (Cosgrove & Rauch, 2003; Steele et al., 2008). This procedure,
which is called an anterior cingulotomy, has no more risks or side effects
than do many of the drugs used to treat these disorders, and it can reduce
symptoms successfully despite other treatments being ineffective.
Focal lesions have also been used to treat severe cases of obsessive-
compulsive disorder. Researchers at Laval University destroyed cells in a
precise region of the anterior capsule, a white-matter pathway near the
basal ganglia (D’Astous et al., 2013). After recovering from the surgery,
47% of the patients reported significant improvements in their condition,
which had not responded well to other treatments.
It is important to remember that focal-lesion techniques have only
become possible in recent years due to the surgical precision allowed by
the use of brain imaging technology, which allows surgeons to precisely
target dysfunctional brain areas. Patients receive this treatment when
other, less invasive options—such as medications and talk-based
therapies—are ineffective. Similar restrictions are placed on other
invasive, or physically demanding, procedures such as electroconvulsive

therapy.
A postsurgical image of a focal brain lesion created in order to reduce the

symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder.
springsky/Shutterstock
Electroconvulsive Therapy
Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT)  involves passing an electrical current
through the brain in order to induce a temporary seizure. This procedure was
introduced in the 1930s and has been viewed negatively for much of its
history, in part because in its early days it was generally unsafe and easily
abused. Many people believe that ECT causes lasting cognitive

impairments, but in fact the majority of research on people who have
been treated with it suggests that this is not true (Rose et al., 2003).
Over the years, ECT techniques have improved dramatically. Patients’
experiences are much less negative. They are now given sedatives and
muscle relaxants to reduce the discomfort they may experience and to
prevent injury related to the convulsions. ECT has gone from being
viewed as a torturous “shock treatment” to a relatively safe procedure,
although it is still reserved for the most severe cases of disorders such as
depression and bipolar disorder. The side effects are relatively mild,
typically consisting of some amnesia for events occurring around the time
of the treatment.
People with depression or bipolar disorder may elect to undergo
electroconvulsive therapy if other treatments have not been successful.
Will & Deni McIntyre/Science Source
Why does ECT work? Neuroimaging research suggests that ECT might
alter how different brain areas work together as networks. These changes
are most pronounced in the frontal lobes (Beall et al., 2012; Perrin et al.,
2012), particularly in areas along the midline of the brain (Argyelan et al.,
2016). Animal studies of depression have found that ECT also stimulates
neurogenesis in the hippocampus, an effect that mirrors antidepressant

treatments (Malberg et al., 2000). One possible interpretation of this
emerging literature is that ECT may alter the patient’s tendency to

habitually engage in negative thoughts, thereby disrupting the
dysfunctional thinking patterns that are characteristic of depression. More
research is needed before we will fully understand why ECT works as

mysteriously well as it does.
Repetitive Transcranial Magnetic
Stimulation
Repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS)  is a therapeutic
technique in which a focal area of the brain is exposed to a powerful magnetic
field across several treatment sessions. The magnetic field can be used to
stimulate or inhibit the activity of particular brain areas. Researchers have
found that stimulating the left prefrontal cortex, which is typically
associated with positive emotional experiences, improves some
symptoms of depression. They have also found that reducing the activity
of the right prefrontal cortex, which is associated with negative emotional

experiences, has the same effect (Berlim et al., 2014). Importantly, rTMS
does not have immediate effects. Treatment typically involves between 10
and 25 rTMS sessions, although some accelerated programs are being
tested (George et al., 2014). Patients must also return for follow-up
appointments every few months.
rTMS has a number of advantages over other treatments. It does not
involve anesthesia, induce a seizure, or produce cognitive impairments
(Serafini et al., 2015). Additionally, rTMS may hold considerable promise
for reducing symptoms of other mental disorders, such as schizophrenia
(Slotema et al., 2010; Zaman et al., 2008).

Delivering brief pulses of a strong magnetic field to specific regions of the
cerebral cortex has been shown to help alleviate symptoms of severe
depression and possibly other disorders.
Bonnie Weller/staff/Newscom
Deep Brain Stimulation
The final biomedical treatment to be discussed in this module is deep
brain stimulation (DBS) , a technique that involves electrically stimulating
specific regions of the brain. The procedure involves inserting thin
electrode-tipped wires into the brain and carefully routing them to the
targeted brain regions. A small battery connected to the wires is then

inserted just beneath the skin surface. Unlike many of the drugs reviewed
previously, DBS produces instantaneous results, and seems to work on
even severe cases of depression that have been unresponsive to other
treatments. As you read at the beginning of this module, the effects can
seem almost miraculous. Patients who are severely depressed report relief
from their symptoms instantaneously, as soon as the electricity is applied
(Mayberg et al., 2005; McNeely et al., 2008). Other researchers have
shown DBS to be effective on symptoms of OCD as well (Aouizerate et
al., 2009).
Deep brain stimulation involves surgically inserting a wire into the brain.
Electrically stimulating very precise brain areas can sometimes lead to
improvements in a number of neurological conditions and psychological
disorders.
Living Art Enterprises/Science Source
Nevertheless, the technique does come with some risk, most obviously
the risk of some internal bleeding and infection from the surgical
insertion of the wires. DBS can also cause unintended behavioural effects.
Most of these side effects are relatively benign and temporary
experiences, such as spontaneous laughter and penile erections, but in
some cases it may trigger troublesome states of depression or aggression

(Kringelbach et al., 2007).
It is important to note that there are additional therapeutic techniques
that are still in development and therefore have not been discussed in this
module. Advances in gene therapies, neuroimaging, neurostimulators,
and computer science will soon influence how a number of psychological

disorders are treated. These innovations should provide patients with
several high-quality treatment options. The future of psychology should
be exciting.
Review Activity
Module 16.3 Summary
16.3a Know . . . the key terminology associated with biological

treatments.
Review Module 16.3
16.3b Understand . . . how the drugs described in this module

affect brain functioning.
Antidepressant drugs typically target monoamine neurotransmitter
activity, with differing mechanisms of action (review Figure 16.7 ). Many
of the antipsychotic drugs on the market reduce dopamine activity in the
brain. Antianxiety drugs tend to target GABA receptors and increase
activity of this inhibitory neurotransmitter.
16.3c Understand . . . the other major medical approaches to

therapy.
Other procedures available for treating mental illness include
electroconvulsive therapy, repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation,
deep brain stimulation, and focal lesions. In some cases, particularly ECT,
researchers are still unsure what aspect of the treatment produces the
therapeutic results. Stimulation techniques increase the brain activity in
targeted areas, whereas lesions prevent brain activity. By targeting the
areas responsible for specific behaviours, thoughts, or emotions,
treatments can have dramatic effects on the experience of someone with a
psychological disorder.
16.3d Apply . . . your knowledge of different therapies to

different psychological conditions.
Apply Activity
Correct answers to the Apply Activity above can be found in the Answer
Key.
16.3e Analyze . . . whether MDMA (Ecstasy) is an effective

treatment for posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Research into the effects of MDMA suggests it may be an effective
treatment for many people experiencing PTSD. MDMA influences the

release of serotonin, the same neurotransmitter that is affected by many
antidepressant medications. The increased desire for social contact

inspired by MDMA makes many patients more open to talk-based
treatment, as they feel more at ease with their therapist. Importantly, the
MDMA used in clinical settings is chemically pure—not the pills used by
recreational drug takers, which often contain other substances—and is

taken in a controlled environment. Additionally, the MDMA sessions are
preceded and followed by non-drug sessions. It is the combination of

MDMA and talk-based therapy that helps patients who are experiencing
this devasting psychological disorder.
Appendix: Experiment Simulations
Hemispheric Specialization
Experiment: Hemispheric Specialization
Weber’s Law
Experiment: Weber's Law
Ambiguous Figures
Experiment: Ambiguous Figures
Müller-Lyer Illusion
Experiment: Müller-Lyer Illusion
Latent Learning
Experiment: Latent Learning
Selective Attention
Experiment: Selective Attention
Digit Span
Experiment: Digit Span
Serial Position Effect
Experiment: Serial Position Effect
Stroop Test
Experiment: Stroop Test
Mental Rotation
Experiment: Mental Rotation
Implicit Association Test: Food
Experiment: Implicit Association Test: Food
Implicit Association Test: Cats and
Dogs
Experiment: Implicit Association Test: Cats and Dogs
Implicit Association Test: Prejudice
Experiment: Implicit Association Test: Prejudice
Implicit Association Test: Sexuality
Experiment: Implicit Association Test: Sexuality
IPIP-NEO Personality Inventory
Experiment: IPIP-NEO Personality Inventory
Answer Key
Chapter 1
Module 1.1 Summary: Apply Activity

1.  The ad addresses people who have already struggled with weight
loss, which opens an opportunity for marketers to take advantage
of emotional thinking. Fortunately, most of the ad seems to be
relatively straightforward. However, the claim that users “won’t
have to give it a second thought” is clearly a stretch.
2.  We do not have any evidence that the product works; we have
only the manufacturer’s claim. Until you find the evidence, you
must tolerate ambiguity—you cannot say if it is effective or not.

1.  C
2.  A
3.  B
4.  E
5.  D
Chapter 2

1.  The problem with the instrumentation is one of reliability. One
key measure of reliability in research is the degree to which a

measurement provides consistent, stable responses. In this case,
the recording device does not meet this criterion.

2.  The problem with Dr. Nielson’s happiness measure probably
concerns its validity. The different observers were always in

agreement on how they recorded the children’s behaviour, so
their measure is reliable. However, given what the second group

of researchers found, it is possible that Dr. Nielson’s group is
actually measuring how energetic children are, rather than how
happy they are. (This could also go the other way around: The
researcher who was recording whether children were energetic
may have been unknowingly measuring whether they were

happy.)

1.  independent; dependent
2.  positive; negative

1.  It is not really informed consent if volunteers are exposed to risks
before signing a consent form. The “informed” part of informed
consent means that individuals are fully informed about risks they
may experience as a result of participating in a study.
2.  This research design is unethical because it requires volunteers to

answer all of the questions in a survey. Participants generally
have the right to quit at any time, or to decline to answer any

specific questions they choose. This issue is particularly important
with sensitive topics such as sexuality.

1.  The graph appears to be negatively skewed because the large
cluster of individuals is on the right with a long, sloping tail to the

left.
2.  The modal grade range is 90–94. That column is the tallest in the
graph, making it the mode of the distribution.
3.  There are nine students in the 80–89 grade range. Specifically,

there is one column for the range of 80–84 and it includes four
people. The next column is for the range 85–89 and it includes
five. So altogether, there are nine people in the 80s.
Chapter 3
Module 3.1 Summary Apply Activity

1.  Some spicy plants such as hot peppers contain capsaicin, a
chemical that leads to painful sensations. This likely led early
humans to avoid eating them. However, humans eventually
learned that these spicy chemicals also help reduce the amount of
bacteria and other pathogens in food. Evidence for this comes

from the fact that areas of the world that are warmer (and thus
have more bacteria-friendly climates) also tend to have the
spiciest food.
2.  Although modern humans typically associate alcohol with beer or

wine, early humans likely associated ethanol (alcohol) with edible
fruits. Microscopic fungi (yeast) can turn the sugar found in some
fruits (e.g., grapes) into alcohol. So, in an effort to find these
sugary fruits, early humans—and other species—would sniff

around for the smell of ethanol.

Parkinson’s disease: dopamine; Depression: serotonin; Seizures: GABA;
Neuromuscular junctions: Acetylcholine

Visual problems: occipital lobe; Speech-production problems: Broca’s
area; Movement problems: cerebellum; Memory problems: hippocampus

1.  EEG
2.  PET
3.  fMRI
4.  ERP
Chapter 4

A.  Correct rejection
B.  Miss
C.  Hit
D.  False alarm

The pictorial depth cues include the following:
A linear perspective (the tracks converging as they reach the horizon)
A texture gradient (the rocks, grass, and other nearby objects can be
seen in greater detail than the objects farther away)
Height in plane (the features in the top half of the photo are
perceived as far away relative to the objects in the bottom half of the
photo)
Relative size (railway ties are known to be the same size, but the ones
that are closer appear larger than those that are far off)
Chapter 5

1.  False
2.  True
3.  False
4.  False
5.  True
6.  True
Chapter 6

1.  CS = theme song, US = kiss, UR = rush of excitement, CR = rush
of excitement
2.  CS = test instrument (procedure), US = puff of air, UR = blinking,
CR = blinking
3.  CS = advertisement, US = delicious meal, UR = pleasure from the
meal, CR = cravings

1.  Negative punishment explains Bill’s change in behaviour. This
process is considered punishment because Bill’s behaviour of

cheating stopped; it is considered negative punishment because
the consequence was to remove something he found reinforcing
(being at school).
2.  Positive reinforcement explains Ericka’s pursuit of math. The
personal and social rewards are stimuli that added (are positively
related) to her doing math, which increased her interest in and

pursuit of this subject.
3.  We are negatively reinforced for closing the car doors, turning off
lights, and fastening the seat belt. Each of these behaviours
removes the unpleasant buzzing or dinging sound. In turn, the
behaviours increase because they allow us to either avoid or

escape the annoying sounds.
4.  Hernan is using positive punishment. The nail and cuticle biting

decrease because he introduces an unpleasant stimulus, the
terrible-tasting lotion.

1.  Teaching a children how to kick a soccer ball properly will likely
involve observational learning. A teacher (you) would show the
children the steps involved with kicking. If the children are
having difficulty mastering each component (proper placement of

the non-kicking foot, proper positioning of the kicking foot, etc.),
you can use operant conditioning to shape the correct

behaviours.
2.  Improving efficiency in a busy office would likely involve
mentoring. Efficient members of the office would likely model

their behaviour for less efficient members. A system of rewards
may be established to reinforce the newly learned behaviours.

Remember, the different types of learning discussed in this
chapter can be used together to change behaviour.
3.  Improving environmentally sustainable behaviours requires that

individuals have the necessary knowledge of what behaviours
should be performed. This educational phase would likely involve

a series of examples from universities or cities that are doing a
good job being environmentally friendly. The instructor would
hope that these positive behaviours would be picked up by the

students; rewards may help reinforce these behaviours.
Chapter 7

1.  Semantic Memory
2.  Episodic Memory
3.  Procedural Memory

Meenu used acronyms.
Danielle used testing effect.

Malcolm used first-letter technique.
Judith used dual coding.

Sharlynn used method of loci.

Malcom: biased schemas
Jennifer: imagination inflation
Rita: misinformation effect
Cleetus: misinformation effect

Luke: imagination inflation
Chapter 8

1.  For many Canadians, prototypical sports might include hockey,
football, and baseball. For much of the rest of the world, the
prototypical sport is probably soccer. Sports that are not

considered prototypical by many would include golf, badminton,
and equestrian competitions.
2.  When people respond to this category, they usually settle on

prototypical items that are difficult or impossible to replace—for
example, photo albums and other memorabilia, prized
possessions, pets, and heirlooms.

1.  A Morpheme
2.  A phoneme and a morpheme, meaning “more than one”

3.  A phoneme
Chapter 9

1.  Fluid
2.  Crystal
3.  Crystal

1.  True
2.  False
3.  True
4.  True
5.  False
6.  False
Chapter 10

1.  Jeff displays preconventional reasoning in his decision. His
reasoning for engaging in the behaviour is based on whether or

not he will get caught.
2.  Margaret displays postconventional moral reasoning because she
is not personally affected but is looking out for the well-being of

innocent strangers.
Chapter 11

1.  Ruth: Avoidance-Performance
2.  Rachel: Avoidance-Mastery
3.  Sydney: Approach-Mastery
4.  Joe: Approach-Performance
5.  Gurpreet: Approach-Performance
6.  Frances: Avoidance-Mastery
Chapter 12

1.  False. Although researchers do examine cultural variability in
personality, most research has taken place on WEIRD (Western,

Educated, Industrialized, Rich, Democratic) people.
2.  False. Although it is possible that genetics could play a role, social
and cultural factors likely account for regional variation. For

example, people who grow up in rural areas are more likely to
either remain there or relocate to another rural area.
3.  True. For example, under some circumstances responding with a

high level of anxiety would be favourable in terms of self-
protection, as opposed to showing no anxiety in the face of
danger.
4.  True. Although brain circuits underlying specific aspects of

personality are known, entire traits cannot be simplified to a
single region or circuit.
5.  False. Research has shown that animals also have stable,

individual differences and even the Big Five can be applied to the
behaviour of some species.
Chapter 15

1.  Not Guilty. Tyson committed his crime while he was
experiencing hallucinations associated with a psychological
disorder. Therefore, at the time of the crime, he could not

distinguish between “right” and “wrong.”
2.  Guilty. Although Rick likely experienced a psychological disorder,
this illness would not have impaired his ability to understand that
committing an act of violence is wrong.

1.  Histrionic personality disorder
2.  Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder
3.  Borderline personality disorder

4.  Antisocial personality disorder
5.  Narcissistic personality disorder
6.  Schizotypal personality disorder

1.  Obsessive-compulsive disorder
2.  Bipolar disorder
3.  Specific phobia
4.  Major depression
5.  Generalized anxiety disorder

1.  Negative
2.  Positive
3.  Negative
4.  Positive
Chapter 16

1.  B: Cognitive-behavioral therapy, because it is aimed at addressing
irrational thought patterns and cognitive restructuring
2.  C: Psychodynamic therapy, because the emphasis is on gaining
insight into early childhood experiences

3.  E: Behavioural therapy, because the focus is on modifying
observable behaviour patterns

1.  False
2.  True
3.  False
4.  False
5.  True
6.  False
7.  True
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Glossary
abnormal psychology
the study of mental illness
absolute threshold
the minimum amount of energy or quantity of a stimulus required for it to
be reliably detected at least 50% of the time it is presented
accommodation
a creative process whereby people modify their belief structures based on
experience
acetylcholine
one of the most widespread neurotransmitters within the body, found at
the junctions between nerve cells and skeletal muscles; it is very
important for voluntary movement
achievement motivation
the drive to perform at high levels and to accomplish significant goals
acquisition
the initial phase of learning in which a response is established
acronyms
pronounceable words whose letters represent the initials of an important
phrase or set of items
action potential
a wave of electrical activity that originates at the beginning of the axon
near the cell body and rapidly travels down its length
activation–synthesis hypothesis
suggests that dreams arise from brain activity originating from bursts of
excitatory messages from the pons, a part of the brainstem
active phase
phase of schizophrenia during which people typically experience
delusional thoughts, hallucinations, or disorganized patterns of thoughts,

emotions, and behaviour
adrenal glands
a pair of endocrine glands located adjacent to the kidneys that release
stress hormones, such as cortisol and epinephrine
affiliation motivation
see need to belong
agonists
drugs that enhance or mimic the effects of a neurotransmitter’s action
agoraphobia
often associated with panic disorder, agoraphobia results from an intense
fear of having a panic attack in public; as a result of this fear, the

individual may begin to avoid public settings and increasingly isolate
him- or herself
algorithms
problem-solving strategies based on a series of rules
all-or-none principle
individual nerve cells fire at the same strength every time an action
potential occurs
allostasis
motivation is not only influenced by current needs, but also by the

anticipation of future needs
altruism
helping others in need without receiving or expecting reward for doing so
Alzheimer’s disease
a degenerative and terminal condition resulting in severe damage of the

entire brain
amnesia
a profound loss of at least one form of memory
amotivational
a feeling of having little or no motivation to perform a behaviour
amygdala
a group of nuclei in the medial portion (near the middle) of the temporal
lobes in each hemisphere of the brain that facilitates memory formation

for emotional events, mediates fear responses, and appears to play a role
in recognizing and interpreting emotional stimuli, including facial

expressions
analytic system
operates at the explicit level of consciousness, is slower and methodical,

and uses logic and discursive thinking (i.e., reasoning using language)
analytical psychology
focuses on the role of unconscious archetypes in personality development
anchoring effect
occurs when an individual attempts to solve a problem involving
numbers and uses previous knowledge to keep (i.e., anchor) the response
within a limited range
anecdotal evidence
an individual’s story or testimony about an observation or event that is
used to make a claim as evidence
anorexia nervosa
an eating disorder that involves (1) self-starvation, (2) intense fear of
weight gain and dissatisfaction with one’s body, and (3) denial of the
serious consequences of severely low weight
antagonists
inhibit neurotransmitter activity by blocking receptors or preventing
synthesis of a neurotransmitter
anterograde amnesia
the inability to form new memories for events occurring after a brain
injury
anthropometrics
(literally, “the measurement of people”) methods of measuring physical
and mental variation in humans
antianxiety drugs
affect the activity of gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA), an inhibitory
neurotransmitter that reduces neural activity
antidepressant drugs
medications designed to reduce symptoms of depression
antipsychotic drugs
generally used to treat symptoms of psychosis, including delusions,
hallucinations, and severely disturbed or disorganized thought
antisocial personality disorder (APD)

a profound lack of empathy or emotional connection with others, a
disregard for others’ rights or preferences, and a tendency toward
imposing one’s own desires, often violently, onto others regardless of the
consequences for other people or, often when younger, other animals
anxiety disorders
a category of disorders involving fear or nervousness that is excessive,
irrational, and maladaptive
APD
see antisocial personality disorder
aphasia
a language disorder caused by damage to the brain structures that
support using and understanding language
appeal to authority
the belief in an “expert’s” claim even when no supporting data or
scientific evidence is present
appeal to common sense
a claim that appears to be sound, but lacks supporting scientific evidence
applied behaviour analysis

involves using close observation, prompting, and reinforcement to teach
behaviours, often to people who experience difficulties and challenges
owing to a developmental condition such as autism
appraisal
the cognitive act of assessing and evaluating the potential threat and
demands of an event
approach goal
an enjoyable and pleasant incentive that a person is drawn toward, such

as praise, financial reward, or a feeling of satisfaction
ARAS
see ascending reticular activating system
archetypes
images and symbols that reflect common “truths” held across cultures,
such as universal life experiences or types of people
arousal theory of extraversion

extraversion is determined by people’s threshold for arousal
ascending reticular activating system (ARAS)

plays a central role in controlling the arousal response
assimilation
a conservative process, whereby people fit new information into the

belief systems they already possess
asylums
residential facilities for the mentally ill
attachment
the enduring emotional bond formed between individuals
attachment behavioural system

focused on meeting our own needs for security
attention
selects which information will be passed on to STM
attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD)

a developmental disorder in which children show inappropriate levels of
hyperactivity and impulsivity while also having problems maintaining

their attention to people or activities
attitude inoculation
a strategy for strengthening attitudes and making them more resistant to
change by first exposing people to a weak counter-argument and then
refuting that argument
atypical antipsychotics
drugs that are less likely to produce side effects including movement
disorders (like tardive dyskinesia) that commonly occur with first-
generation antipsychotics
autonomic nervous system

the portion of the peripheral nervous system responsible for regulating
the activity of organs and glands
autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR)
a condition in which specific auditory or visual stimuli trigger tingling
sensations in the scalp and neck, sometimes extending across the back
and shoulders
availability heuristic
entails estimating the frequency of an event based on how easily
examples of it come to mind
aversive conditioning
a behavioural technique that involves replacing a positive response to a
stimulus with a negative response, typically by using punishment
avoidance goal
an attempt to avoid an unpleasant outcome such as shame,
embarrassment, losing money, or feeling emotional pain
avoidance learning
a specific type of negative reinforcement that removes the possibility that
a stimulus will occur
avoidant personality disorder (AvPD)
individuals avoid social interactions, including those at school or work,

because they feel inadequante and are deeply afraid of being rejected
axon
transports information in the form of electrochemical reactions from the
cell body to the end of the neuron
axon terminals
bulb-like extensions filled with vesicles (little bags of molecules)
BAS
see behavioural activation system/em>
basal ganglia
a group of three structures that are involved in facilitating planned
movements, skill learning, and integrating sensory and movement
information with the brain’s reward system
BDNF
see brain-derived neurotrophic factor
behavioural activation system (BAS)
a “GO” system, arousing the person to action in the pursuit of desired

goals
behavioural genetics
the study of how genes and the environment influence behaviour
behavioural genomics
the study of how specific genes, in their interactions with the

environment, influence behaviour
behavioural inhibition system (BIS)

a “danger” system, motivating the person to action in order to avoid
punishments or other negative outcomes
behavioural therapies
therapies that attempt to directly address problem behaviours and the

environmental factors that trigger them
behaviourism
an approach that dominated the first half of the 20th century of North
American psychology and had a singular focus on studying only

observable behaviour, with little to no reference to mental events or
instincts as possible influences on behaviour

belief perseverance
when an individual remains committed to their decision or belief even in

the face of evidence against it
between-subjects design
an experimental design in which we compare the performance of
participants who are in different groups
bibliotherapy
the use of self-help books and other reading materials as a form of
therapy
binocular depth cues
distance cues that are based on the differing perspectives of both eyes
biopsychosocial model
a means of explaining behaviour as a product of biological, psychological,

and sociocultural factors
bipolar disorder
characterized by extreme highs and lows in mood, motivation, and
energy
BIS
see behavioural inhibition system
blood–brain barrier
a network of tightly packed cells that only allow specific types of

substances to move from the bloodstream to the brain in order to protect
delicate brain cells against harmful infections and other substances
BMI
see body mass index
body mass index (BMI)
a statistic commonly used for estimating a healthy body weight given an
individual’s height
borderline personality disorder (BPD)
a disorder characterized by intense extremes between positive and

negative emotions, an unstable sense of self, impulsivity, and difficult
social relationships
bottom-up processing
occurs when we perceive individual bits of sensory information (e.g.,

sounds) and use them to construct a more complex perception (e.g., a
message)
BPD
see borderline personality disorder
brain death
a condition in which the brain, specifically including the brainstem, no

longer functions
brainstem
the “stem” or bottom of the brain and consists of two structures: the
medulla and the pons
brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF)

a protein in the nervous system that promotes survival, growth, and
formation of new synapses
Broca’s area
a region of the left frontal lobe that controls our ability to articulate
speech sounds that compose words
bulimia nervosa
an eating disorder that is characterized by periods of food deprivation,
binge-eating, and purging
bystander effect
the observation that an individual is less likely to help when they perceive
that others are not helping
Cannon-Bard theory of emotion
the brain interprets a situation and generates subjective emotional

feelings, and these representations in the brain trigger responses in the
body
caregiving behavioural system
focused on meeting the needs of others
case study
an in-depth report about the details of a specific case
catatonic schizophrenia
symptoms include episodes in which a person remains mute and
immobile—sometimes in bizarre positions—for extended periods.

Individuals may also exhibit repetitive, purposeless movements
categories
clusters of interrelated concepts
CBT
see cognitive–behavioural therapy
cell body
the part of a neuron that contains the nucleus that houses the cell’s
genetic material
central executive
the control centre of working memory; it coordinates attention and the
exchange of information among the three storage components
central nervous system (CNS)
consists of the brain and the spinal cord
central route to persuasion

occurs when people pay close attention to the content of a message,
evaluate the evidence presented, and examine the logic of the arguments
central tendency
a measure of the central point of a distribution
cerebellum
(Latin for “little brain”) the lobe-like structure at the base of the brain that
is involved in the monitoring of movement, maintaining balance,
attention, and emotional responses
cerebral cortex
the convoluted, wrinkled outer layer of the brain that is involved in
multiple higher functions, such as thought, language, and personality
cerebral hemispheres
nearly symmetrical halves of the brain that contain the same structures
chaining
involves linking together two or more shaped behaviours into a more
complex action or sequence of actions
chronotype
the tendency to prefer sleeping earlier or later in a given 24-hour period
chromosomes
structures in the cellular nucleus that are lined with all of the genes an
individual inherits
chunking
organizing smaller units of information into larger, more meaningful units
circadian rhythms
internally driven daily cycles of approximately 24 hours affecting
physiological and behavioural processes
classical conditioning
a form of associative learning in which an organism learns to associate a
neutral stimulus (e.g., a sound) with a biologically relevant stimulus (e.g.,

food), which results in a change in the response to the previously neutral
stimulus (e.g., salivation)
client-centred therapy
focuses on individuals’ abilities to solve their own problems and reach
their full potential with the encouragement of the therapist
clinical psychologists
have obtained PhDs and are able to formally diagnose and treat mental
health issues ranging from the everyday and mild to the chronic and
severe
clinical psychology
the field of psychology that concentrates on the diagnosis and treatment
of psychological disorders
cochlea
a fluid-filled membrane that is coiled in a snail-like shape and contains
the structures that convert sound into neural impulses
cognitive–behavioural therapy (CBT)

a form of therapy that consists of procedures such as cognitive
restructuring, stress inoculation training, and exposing people to

experiences they may have a tendency to avoid
cognitive development
the study of changes in memory, thought, and reasoning processes that
occur throughout the lifespan
cognitive dissonance theory

when we hold inconsistent beliefs, it creates a kind of aversive inner
tension, or “dissonance”; we are then motivated to reduce this tension in

whatever way we can
cognitive psychology
a modern psychological perspective that focuses on processes such as

memory, thinking, and language
cohort effect
differences between people that result from being born in different time
periods
collective unconscious
a separate, non-personal realm of the unconscious that holds the
collective memories and mythologies of humankind, stretching deep into
our ancestral past
coma
a state marked by a complete loss of consciousness
community psychology
an area of psychology that focuses on identifying how individuals’ mental
health is influenced by the community in which they live, and emphasizes

community-level variables such as social programs, support networks,
and community resource centres to help those with mental illness adjust
to the challenges of everyday life
companionate love
related to tenderness, and to the affection we feel when our lives are
intertwined with another person
compensatory control
psychological strategies people use to preserve a sense of nonrandom

order when personal control is compromised
computerized tomography (or CT scans)

a structural neuroimaging technique in which X-rays are sent through the
brain by a tube that rotates around the head
concept
the mental representation of an object, event, or idea
concrete operational stage

(ages seven to 11 years) developmental stage at which children develop
skills in logical thinking and manipulating numbers
conditioned emotional responses
consist of emotional and physiological responses that develop to a
specific object or situation
conditioned response (CR)
the learned response that occurs to the conditioned stimulus
conditioned stimulus (CS)

a once-neutral stimulus that later elicits a conditioned response because it
has a history of being paired with an unconditioned stimulus
conditioned taste aversion
acquired dislike or disgust for a food or drink because it was paired with
illness
cones
photoreceptors that are sensitive to the different wavelengths of light that
we perceive as colour
confirmation bias
occurs when an individual searches for only evidence that will confirm his
or her beliefs instead of evidence that might disconfirm them
confounding variable
a variable outside of the researcher’s control that might affect or provide
an alternative explanation for the results
conjunction fallacy
reflects the mistaken belief that finding a specific member in two

overlapping categories (i.e., a member of the conjunction of two
categories) is more likely than finding any member of one of the larger,
general categories
conscious mind
your current awareness, containing everything you are aware of right
now
consciousness
a person’s subjective awareness, including thoughts, perceptions,

experiences of the world, and self-awareness
conservation
the knowledge that the quantity or amount of an object is not the same as
the physical arrangement and appearance of that object
consolidation
the process of converting short-term memories into long-term memories
in the brain
construal-level theory
describes how information affects us differently depending on our
psychological distance from the information
constructive memory
a process by which we first recall a generalized schema and then add in

specific details
contact hypothesis
social contact between members of different groups is extremely

important to overcoming prejudice
context-dependent memory
the idea that retrieval is more effective when it takes place in the same
physical setting (context) as encoding
continuous reinforcement
every response made results in reinforcement
control group
the group that does not receive the treatment or stimuli targeting a
specific behaviour; this group therefore serves as a baseline to which the

experimental group is compared
control processes
shift information from one memory store to another
convenience samples
samples of individuals who are the most readily available
conventional morality
regards social conventions and rules as guides for appropriate moral
behaviour
convergence
occurs when the eye muscles contract so that both eyes focus on a single
object
Coolidge effect
the tendency for males to show renewed sexual interest when a new
female becomes available
coping
the processes used to manage demands, stress, and conflict
core knowledge hypothesis

the theory that infants have inborn abilities for understanding some key
aspects of their environment

cornea
the clear layer that covers the front portion of the eye and also
contributes to the eye’s ability to focus
coronary heart disease

a condition in which plaques form in the blood vessels that supply the
heart with blood and oxygen, resulting in restricted blood flow
corpus callosum
a collection of neural fibres connecting the two brain hemispheres
correlational research
involves measuring the degree of association between two or more
variables
cortical deafness
problems with hearing despite the fact that the patient’s ears work
perfectly
cortisol
a hormone secreted by the adrenal cortex (the outer part of the adrenal
gland) that prepares the body to respond to stressful circumstances
counselling psychologists
mental health professionals who typically work with people who need
help with more common problems such as stress and coping; issues
concerning identity, sexuality, and relationships; anxiety and depression;
and developmental issues such as childhood trauma
CR
see conditioned response

CRISPR
a technique that allows genetic material to be removed, added, or altered
in specific locations of the genome
critical thinking
involves exercising curiosity and skepticism when evaluating the claims
of others, and with our own assumptions and beliefs
cross-cortical storage
a phenomenon in which long-term declarative memories are distributed
throughout the cortex of the brain, rather than being localized in one
region
cross-fostered
being raised as a member of a family that was not of the same species
cross-sectional design
used to measure and compare samples of people at different ages at a

given point in time
crystallized intelligence (Gc)

a type of intelligence that draws upon past learning and experience
CS
see conditioned stimulus
CT scan
see computerized tomography
culture-bound syndromes
expressions of distress that are recognized across a given culture but that
tend not to appear outside of that culture
dark adaptation
the process by which the rods and cones become increasingly sensitive to
light under low levels of illumination
Dark Triad
three traits—Machiavellianism, Psychopathy, and Narcissism—that

describe a person who is socially destructive, aggressive, dishonest, and
likely to commit harm in general
DBS
see deep brain stimulation
debriefing
when researchers explain the true nature of the study, and especially the
nature of and reason for any deception
decentring
occurs when a person is able to “step back” from their normal
consciousness and examine themselves more objectively, as an observer
deception
misleading or only partially informing participants of the true topic or
hypothesis under investigation
declarative (explicit) memories
memories that we are consciously aware of and that can be verbalized,

including facts about the world and one’s own personal experiences
deep brain stimulation (DBS)

a technique that involves electrically stimulating specific regions of the
brain
deep processing
encoding information about an item’s meaning or its function
default mode network

a network of brain regions including the medial prefrontal cortex,
posterior cingulate gyrus, and medial and lateral regions of the parietal
lobe that is most active when an individual is awake but not responding
to external stimuli
defence mechanisms
unconscious strategies the ego uses to reduce or avoid anxiety
deinstitutionalization
the movement of large numbers of psychiatric in-patients from their care
facilities back into regular society
delaying gratification
putting off immediate temptations in order to focus on longer-term goals
delusions
beliefs that are not based on reality (at least from the perspective of the
person’s general culture)
demand characteristics
inadvertent cues given off by the experimenter or the experimental
context that provide information about how participants are expected to

behave
dementia
mild to severe disruption of mental functioning, memory loss,

disorientation, poor judgment, and decision making
dendrites
small branches radiating from the cell body that receive messages from
other cells and transmit those messages toward the rest of the cell
dependent personality disorder (DPD)
an excessive need to be taken care of, often requiring frequent assurance

from others and help with everyday decision making
dependent variable
the observation or measurement that is recorded during the experiment

and subsequently compared across all groups
descriptive statistics
a set of techniques used to organize, summarize, and interpret data
desirable difficulties
techniques that make studying slower and more effortful, but result in
better overall remembering
determinism
the belief that all events are governed by lawful, cause-and-effect
relationships
developmental psychology
the study of human physical, cognitive, social, and behavioural
characteristics across the lifespan
deviation IQ
calculated by comparing a person’s test score with the average score for
people of the same age
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM)

a standardized manual to aid in the diagnosis of disorders
diasthesis–stress model
the interaction between a genetic predisposition for a disorder and life
stress
DID
see dissociative identity disorder
difference threshold
the smallest difference between stimuli that can be reliably detected at
least 50% of the time
diffusion of responsibility
the reduced personal responsibility that a person feels when more people
are present in a situation
diffusion tensor imaging (or DTI)
a form of structural neuroimaging allowing researchers or medical

personnel to measure white-matter pathways in the brain
discrimination
(1) Pavlovian-occurs when an organism learns to respond to one original
conditioned stimulus but not to new stimuli that may be similar to the
original stimulus; (2) Operant-occurs when an organism learns to
respond to one original discriminative stimulus but not to new stimuli

that may be similar to the original stimulus; (3) behaviour that disfavours
or disadvantages members of a certain social group in some way.
discriminative stimulus
a cue or event that indicates that a response, if made, will be reinforced
dishabituation
the recovery of responsiveness to a habituated stimulus as the result of

the presentation of a new stimulus
disorganized behaviour
the considerable difficulty people with schizophrenia may have

completing the tasks of everyday life
disorganized schizophrenia
symptoms include thoughts, speech, behaviour, and emotions that are

poorly integrated and incoherent; people with disorganized
schizophrenia may also show inappropriate, unpredictable mannerisms
display rules
the unwritten expectations we have regarding when it is appropriate to
show a certain emotion
dispositional attribution
see internal attribution
dissociation theory
explains hypnosis as a unique state in which consciousness is divided into
two parts: a lower-level system involved with perception and movement

and an “executive” system that evaluates and monitors these behaviours
dissociative disorder
a category of mental disorders characterized by a split between conscious
awareness from feeling, cognition, memory, and identity
dissociative identity disorder (DID)

a person experiences a split in identity such that they feel different
aspects of themselves as though they were separated from each other;
this can be severe enough that the person constructs entirely separate
personalities, only one of which will generally be in control at a time
divided attention
paying attention to more than one stimulus or task at the same time
dizygotic twins
fraternal twins who come from two separate eggs fertilized by two
different sperm cells that share the same womb; these twins have
approximately 50% of their genetics in common
DNA (deoxyribonucleic acid)
a molecule formed in a double-helix shape that contains four amino

acids: adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine
doctrine of specific nerve energies

first proposed in 1826 by the German physiologist Johannes Muller, the
doctrine states that the different senses are separated in the brain
door-in-the-face technique
involves asking for something relatively big, then following with a request
for something relatively small
dopamine
a monoamine neurotransmitter involved in such varied functions as
mood, control of voluntary movement, and processing of rewarding

experiences
dorsal stream
a neural circuit for vision that extends from the visual cortex to the
parietal lobe
double-blind study
a study in which neither the participant nor the experimenter knows the
exact treatment for any individual
dream analysis
a method of examining the details of a dream (the manifest content), in
order to gain insight into the true meaning of the dream, the emotional,
unconscious material that is being communicated symbolically (the latent
content)
drive
a biological trigger that tells us we may be deprived of something and
causes us to seek out what is needed, such as food or water
DRM procedure
participants study a list of highly related words called semantic associates
DSM
see Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
DTI
see diffusion tensor imaging
dual coding
occurs when information is stored in more than one form
dual-process models
models of behaviour that account for both implicit and explicit processes
dualism
the belief that there are properties of humans that are not material (a
mind or soul separate from the body)
echoic memory
the auditory form of sensory memory
ecological validity
the results of a laboratory study can be applied to or repeated in the

natural environment
ecstasy (MDMA)
a drug that is typically classified as a stimulant, but also has
hallucinogenic effects
ECT
see electroconvulsive therapy
EEG
see electroencephalogram
ego
the decision maker, frequently under tension, trying to reconcile the
opposing urges of the id and superego
egocentric
seeing the world only from one’s own perspective
elaboration likelihood model (ELM)

a dual-process model of persuasion that predicts whether factual
information or other types of information will be most influential
elaborative rehearsal
prolonging exposure to information by thinking about its meaning
electroconvulsive therapy (ECT)
involves passing an electrical current through the brain in order to induce

a temporary seizure
electroencephalogram (or EEG)

measures patterns of brain activity with the use of multiple electrodes
attached to the scalp
embryonic stage
spans weeks two through eight of the gestational period, during which
time the embryo begins developing major physical structures such as the
heart and nervous system, as well as the beginnings of arms, legs, hands,
and feet
emotion
a behaviour with the following three components: (a) a subjective
thought and/or experience with (b) accompanying patterns of neural
activity and physical arousal and (c) an observable behavioural
expression (e.g., an emotional facial expression or changes in muscle
tension)
emotional dialects
variations across cultures in how common emotions are expressed
empirically supported treatments

treatments that have been tested and evaluated using scientific methods
empiricism
a philosophical tenet that knowledge comes through experience
encoding specificity principle

retrieval is most effective when the conditions at the time of encoding
and retrieval are the same
encoding
the process of storing information in the LTM system
endogenous rhythms
biological rhythms that are generated by our body independent of
external cues such as light
endorphin
a hormone produced by the pituitary gland and the hypothalamus that
functions to reduce pain and induce feelings of pleasure
entity theory
the belief that intelligence is a fixed characteristic and relatively difficult
(or impossible) to change
entrainment
when biological rhythms become synchronized to external cues such as
light, temperature, or even a clock
epigenetics
changes in gene expression that occur as a result of experience and that

do not alter the genetic code
epinephrine
a hormone and neurotransmitter created in the adrenal gland on the
kidneys
episodic buffer
a storage component of working memory that combines the images and
sounds from the other two components into coherent, story-like episodes
episodic memories
declarative memories for personal experiences that seem to be organized
around “episodes” and are recalled from a first-person (“I” or “my”)
perspective
escape learning
occurs if a response removes a stimulus that is already present
evidence-based therapies
see empirically supported treatments
evolution
the change in the frequency of genes occurring in an interbreeding
population over generations
evolutionary psychology
attempts to explain human behaviours based on the beneficial function(s)
they may have served in our species’ development
exemplar
a specific example that best represents a category
experiential system
operates implicitly, quickly, and intuitively and is predominantly

emotional
experimental group
the group in the experiment that receives a treatment or the stimuli
targeting a specific behaviour
experimental hypothesis
assumes that any differences are due to a variable controlled by the
experimenter
explicit memories
see declarative memories
explicit processes
correspond to “conscious” thought: deliberative, effortful, relatively slow,
and generally under our intentional control
external (situational) attribution

the observer explains the actor’s behaviour as the result of the situation
extinction
(1) in classical conditioning, the loss or weakening of a conditioned
response when a conditioned stimulus and unconditioned stimulus no

longer occur together; (2) in operant conditioning, the weakening of an
operant response when reinforcement is no longer available
extrinsic motivation
motivation geared toward gaining rewards or public recognition, or
avoiding embarrassment
facial feedback hypothesis

our emotional expressions can influence our subjective emotional states
factor analysis
(1) a statistical technique that examines correlations between variables to

find clusters of related variables, or “factors”; (2) in personality analysis,
grouping items that people respond to similarly; for instance, the terms
friendly and warm
FAE
see fundamental attribution error
false consensus effect

tendency to project the self-concept onto the social world
false memory
remembering events that did not occur, or incorrectly recalling details of
an event
falsifiable
the hypothesis is precise enough that it could be proven false
fast mapping
the ability to map words onto concepts or objects after only a single
exposure
feature binding
the process of combining visual features into a single unit
feature detection cells

a set of cells in the visual cortex that respond selectively to simple and
specific aspects of a stimulus, such as angles and edges
fetal alcohol spectrum disorders

abnormalities in mental functioning, growth, and physical development
in the offspring of women who use alcohol during pregnancy
fetal stage
spans week eight of the gestational period through birth, during which
time the skeletal, organ, and nervous systems become more developed
and specialized
fight-or-flight response
a set of physiological changes that occur in response to psychological or
physical threats
first-letter technique
uses the first letters of a set of items to spell out words that form a
sentence
Five Factor Model (FFM)

a trait-based theory of personality based on the finding that personality
can be described using five major dimensions
fixation
becoming preoccupied with obtaining the pleasure associated with a
particular Freudian stage as a result of not being able to adequately
regulate oneself and satisfy needs at that stage
fixed-interval schedule
reinforces the first response occurring after a set amount of time passes
fixed-ratio schedule
reinforcement is delivered after a specific number of responses have been
completed
flashbulb memory
an extremely vivid and detailed memory about an event and the
conditions surrounding how one learned about the event
fluid intelligence (Gf)
a type of intelligence used in learning new information and solving new
problems not based on knowledge the person already possesses
Flynn effect
the steady population level increases in intelligence test scores over time
fMRI
see functional magnetic resonance imaging
focal lesions
small areas of brain tissue that are surgically destroyed
foot-in-the-door technique
involves making a simple request followed by a more substantial request
forebrain
the most visibly obvious region of the brain, consists of all of the neural
structures that are located above the midbrain, including all of the folds
and grooves on the outer surface of the brain; the multiple interconnected
structures in the forebrain are critical to such complex processes as
emotion, memory, thinking, and reasoning
forgetting curve
shows that most forgetting occurs right away, and that the rate of
forgetting eventually slows to the point where one does not seem to
forget at all
formal operational stage

(ages 11 to adulthood) the development of advanced cognitive processes
such as abstract reasoning and hypothetical thinking
fovea
the central region of the retina
free association
patients are encouraged to talk or write without censoring their thoughts
in any way
frequency
the number of observations that fall within a certain category or range of

scores
frequency theory
the perception of pitch is related to the frequency at which the basilar
membrane vibrates
frontal lobes
important in numerous higher cognitive functions, such as planning,
regulating impulses and emotion, language production, and voluntary
movement
frontal lobotomy
surgically severing the connections between different regions of the brain
functional fixedness
occurs when an individual identifies an object or technique that could
potentially solve a problem, but can think of only its most obvious
function
functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI)

measures brain activity by detecting the influx of oxygen-rich blood into
neural areas that were just active
functional neuroimaging
a type of brain scanning that provides information about which areas of
the brain are active when a person performs a particular behaviour
functionalism
the study of the purpose and function of behaviour and conscious
experience
fundamental attribution error (FAE)

the tendency to over-emphasize internal (dispositional) attributions and
under-emphasize external (situational) factors when explaining other

people’s behaviour
g
see general intelligence factor
GABA (gamma-amino butyric acid)

the primary inhibitory neurotransmitter of the nervous system, meaning
that it prevents neurons from generating action potentials
GAD
see generalized anxiety disorder
GAS
see general adaptation syndrome
gate-control theory
explains our experience of pain as an interaction between nerves that
transmit pain messages and those that inhibit these messages
Gc
see crystallized intelligence/em>
gender roles
the accepted attitudes and behaviours of males and females in a given
society
gene knockout (KO) studies
involve removing a specific gene and comparing the characteristics of

animals with and without that gene
general adaptation syndrome (GAS)

a theory of stress responses involving stages of alarm, resistance, and
exhaustion
general intelligence factor (g)

a person’s “mental energy,” reflecting Spearman’s belief that some
people’s brains are simply more “powerful” than others
generalization
(1) Pavlovian-process in which a response that originally occurred for a
specific stimulus also occurs for different, though similar, stimuli; (2)
Operant-takes place when an operant response occurs in response to a
new stimulus that is similar to the stimulus present during original
learning
generalization
takes place when an operant response occurs in response to a new

stimulus that is similar to the stimulus present during original learning
generalized anxiety disorder (GAD)

involves frequently elevated levels of anxiety, generally from the normal
challenges and stresses of everyday life
genes
the basic units of heredity; genes are responsible for guiding the process
of creating the proteins that make up our physical structures and regulate
development and physiological processes throughout the lifespan
genotype
the genetic makeup of an organism—the unique set of genes that
comprise that individual’s genetic code
germinal stage
the first phase of prenatal development, which spans from conception to
two weeks
Gestalt psychology
an approach emphasizing that psychologists need to focus on the whole
of perception and experience, rather than its parts
Gf
see fluid intelligence
glial cells
specialized cells of the nervous system that are involved in mounting
immune responses in the brain, removing waste, and synchronizing the

activity of the billions of neurons that constitute the nervous system
glucose
a sugar that serves as a primary energy source for the brain and the rest of
the body
glutamate
most common excitatory neurotransmitter in the brains of vertebrates
graded membership
the observation that some concepts appear to make better category
members than others
groupthink
a decision-making problem in which group members avoid arguments
and strive for agreement
guided imagery
a technique used by some clinicians (and some police investigators) to
help people recover details of events that they are unable to remember
gustatory system
functions in the sensation and perception of taste
habituation
a decrease in responding with repeated exposure to a stimulus or event
hallucinations
alterations in perception, such that a person hears, sees, smells, feels, or
tastes something that does not actually exist, except in that person’s own
mind
hallucinogenic drugs
substances that produce perceptual distortions
haptics
the active, exploratory aspect of touch sensation and perception
Hawthorne effect
behaviour change that occurs as a result of being observed
hemispheric specialization
the two sides of the cortex often perform very different functions
heritability
a statistic, expressed as a number between zero and one, that represents
the degree to which genetic differences between individuals contribute to
individual differences in a behaviour or trait found in a population
heterozygous
if two corresponding genes at a given location on a pair of chromosomes
differ
heuristics
problem-solving strategies that stem from prior experiences and provide
an educated guess as to what is the most likely solution
HEXACO model of personality

a six-factor theory that generally replicates the factors of the Five Factor
Model and adds one additional factor: Honesty–Humility
hippocampus
critical for learning and memory, particularly the formation of new

memories
histrionic personality disorder (HPD)

characterized by excessive attention seeking and dramatic behaviour
homeostasis
the body’s physiological processes that allow it to maintain consistent

internal states in response to the outer environment
homozygous
if two corresponding genes at a given location on a pair of chromosomes
are the same
hormones
chemicals secreted by the glands of the endocrine system
HPA axis
see hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal axis
HPD
see >histrionic personality disorder
Human Genome Project

a massive effort to identify the components of the entire human genome
humanistic psychology
focuses on the unique aspects of each individual human, each person’s
freedom to act, his or her rational thought, and the belief that humans are
fundamentally different from other animals
humourism
explained both physical illnesses and disorders of personality as resulting
from imbalances in key fluids in the body
Huntington's disease
a condition involving uncontrollable movements of the body, head, and
face
hunter-gatherer theory
links performance on specific tasks to the different roles performed by
males and females over the course of our evolutionary history
hypnosis
a procedure of inducing a heightened state of suggestibility
hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal (HPA) axis

a neural and endocrine circuit that provides communication between the
nervous system (the hypothalamus) and the endocrine system (pituitary
and adrenal glands)
hypothalamus
a set of nuclei found on the bottom surface of the brain that are involved
in regulating motivation and homeostasis by stimulating the release of
hormones throughout the body
hypothesis
(plural: hypotheses) a testable prediction about processes that can be

observed and measured
hypothesis test
a statistical method of evaluating whether differences among groups are
meaningful, or could have been arrived at by chance alone
IAT
see Implicit Associations Test
iconic memory
the visual form of sensory memory
id
a collection of basic biological drives, including those directed toward sex
and aggression
identifiable victim effect
people are more powerfully moved to action by the story of a single
suffering person than by information about a whole group of people
identity
a clear sense of what kind of person you are, what types of people you
belong with, and what roles you should play in society
idiographic approach
creating detailed descriptions of a specific person’s unique personality
characteristics
illusory correlations
relationships that really exist only in the mind, rather than in reality
imagination inflation
the increased confidence in a false memory of an event following
repeated imagination of the event
imitation
recreating someone else’s motor behaviour or expression, often to
accomplish a specific goal
Implicit Associations Test (IAT)

measures how fast people can respond to images or words flashed on a
computer screen
implicit memories
see nondeclarative memories
implicit processes
correspond to “unconscious” thought: intuitive, automatic, effortless, very
fast, and operate largely outside of our intentional control
inattentional blindness
a failure to notice clearly visible events or objects because attention is
directed elsewhere
incentives
the stimuli we seek out in order to reduce drives
incremental theory
the belief that intelligence can be shaped by experiences, practice, and
effort
independent variable
the variable that the experimenter manipulates to distinguish between
two or more groups
individual zone of optimal functioning (IZOF)

a range of emotional intensity in which an individual is most likely to
perform at his or her best
inductive discipline
involves explaining the consequences of a child’s actions on other people,
activating empathy for others’ feelings
infantile amnesia
a phenomenon in which we do not have any personal or autobiographical
memories from before the third birthday
inferiority complex
the struggle many people have with feelings of inferiority, which stem
from experiences of helplessness and powerlessness during childhood
informational influence
occurs when people internalize the values and beliefs of the group,
coming to believe the same things and feel the same ways themselves
informed consent
a potential volunteer must be informed (know the purpose, tasks, and
risks involved in the study) and give consent (agree to participate based
on the information provided) without pressure
ingroup bias
positive biases toward the self get extended to include one’s ingroups and
people become motivated to see their ingroups as superior to their
outgroups
ingroups
groups we feel positively toward and identify with
insight therapies
a general term referring to therapy that involves dialogue between client
and therapist for the purposes of gaining awareness and understanding of

psychological problems and conflicts
insomnia
a disorder characterized by an extreme lack of sleep
intelligence
the ability to think, understand, reason, and adapt to or overcome

obstacles
intelligence quotient, or IQ
a measure of intelligence computed using a standardized test and
calculated by taking a person’s mental age, dividing it by his or her
chronological age, and then multiplying by 100
intermittent reinforcement
see partial reinforcement
internal (dispositional) attribution

the observer explains the behaviour of the actor in terms of some innate
quality of that person
intersexual selection
a situation in which members of one sex select a mating partner based on
their desirable traits
intrasexual selection
a situation in which members of the same sex compete in order to win
the opportunity to mate with members of the opposite sex
intrinsic motivation
the process of being internally motivated to perform behaviours and
overcome challenges (e.g., a genuine desire to master a task rather than
being motivated by a reward)
introjection
the internalization of the conditional regard of significant others
ion channels
small pores on the neuron’s cell membrane
iris
a round muscle that adjusts the size of the pupil; it also gives the eyes
their characteristic colour
IZOF
see individual zone of optimal functioning
James-Lange theory of emotion
our physiological reactions to stimuli (e.g., a racing heart) precede the

emotional experience (e.g., the fear)
jet lag
the discomfort a person feels when sleep cycles are out of
synchronization with light and darkness
kinesthesis
the sense of bodily motion and position
language
a form of communication that involves the use of spoken, written, or

gestural symbols that are combined in a rule-based form
latent content
the actual symbolic meaning of a dream built on suppressed sexual or
aggressive urges
latent inhibition
occurs when frequent experience with a stimulus before it is paired with a
US makes it less likely that conditioning will occur after a single episode
of illness
latent learning
learning that is not immediately expressed by a response until the
organism is reinforced for doing so
law of effect
the idea that responses followed by satisfaction will occur again in the
same situation whereas those that are not followed by satisfaction
become less likely
learned helplessness
an acquired suppression of avoidance or escape behaviour in response to
unpleasant, uncontrollable circumstances
learning
a process by which behaviour or knowledge changes as a result of
experience
lens
a clear structure that focuses light onto the back of the eye
lesioning
a technique in which researchers intentionally damage an area in the
brain
leucotomy
the surgical destruction of brain tissues in the pre-frontal cortex
libido
the motivation for sexual activity and pleasure
limbic system
an integrated network involved in emotion and memory

linguistic relativity
the theory that the language we use determines how we understand the
world
lithium
one of the first mood stabilizers to be prescribed regularly in psychiatry,
and from the 1950s to the 1980s, was the standard drug treatment for
depression and bipolar disorder
localization of brain function

the idea that certain parts of the brain control specific mental abilities and
personality characteristics
locked-in syndrome
a disorder in which the patient is aware and awake but, because of an

inability to move his or her body, appears unconscious
longitudinal design
follows the development of the same set of individuals through time
longitudinal studies
studies that follow the same set of individuals for many years, often
decades
long-term memory (LTM)

holds information for extended periods of time, if not permanently
long-term potentiation (LTP)

demonstrated that there is an enduring increase in connectivity and
transmission of neural signals between nerve cells that fire together
LTM
see long-term memory
LTP
see long-term potentiation
lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD)

a laboratory-made (synthetic) drug that triggers unusual sensory
experiences
magnetic resonance imaging (MRI)

a structural imaging technique in which clear images of the brain are
created based on how different neural regions absorb and release energy
while in a magnetic field
magnetoencephalography (MEG)
a neuroimaging technique that measures the tiny magnetic fields created
by the electrical activity of nerve cells in the brain
maintenance rehearsal
prolonging exposure to information by repeating it
major depression
a disorder marked by prolonged periods of sadness, feelings of
worthlessness and hopelessness, social withdrawal, and cognitive and
physical sluggishness
maladaptive
a behaviour that causes distress to oneself or others, impairs day-to-day
functioning, or increases the risk of injury or harm to oneself or others
manifest content
the images and storylines that we dream about
MAOIs
see monoamine oxidase inhibitors
marijuana
a drug comprising the leaves and buds of the Cannabis plant that
produces a combination of hallucinogenic, stimulant, and relaxing
(narcotic) effects
mastery motive
see intrinsic motivation
materialism
the belief that humans, and other living beings, are composed exclusively
of physical matter
MBCT
see mindfulness-based cognitive therapy
MBSR
see mindfulness-based stress reduction
MCS
see minimally conscious state
MDMA
see Ecstasy
mean
the arithmetic average of a set of numbers
median
the 50th percentile—the point on the horizontal axis at which 50% of all
observations are lower, and 50% of all observations are higher
medical model
sees psychological conditions through the same lens as Western medicine
tends to see physical conditions—as sets of symptoms, causes, and
outcomes, with treatments aimed at changing physiological processes in
order to alleviate symptoms
meditation
any procedure that involves a shift in consciousness to a state in which an
individual is highly focused, aware, and in control of mental processes
MEG
see magnetoencephalography
memory
a collection of several systems that store information in different forms for
differing amounts of time
menarche
the onset of menstruation
menopause
the termination of the menstrual cycle and reproductive ability in women
mental age
the average intellectual ability score for children of a specific age
mental disorder defence

claims that the defendant was in such an extreme, abnormal state of mind
when committing the crime that he or she could not discern that the
actions were legally or morally wrong
mental set
a cognitive obstacle that occurs when an individual attempts to apply a
routine solution to what is actually a new type of problem
method of loci
a mnemonic that connects words to be remembered to locations along a

familiar path
midbrain
resides just above the hindbrain, primarily functions as a relay station
between sensory and motor areas
mimicry
taking on for ourselves the behaviours, emotional displays, and facial
expressions of others
mind-wandering
an unintentional redirection of attention from one’s current task to an
unrelated train of thought
mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MBCT)

involves combining mindfulness meditation with standard cognitive–
behavioural therapy tools
mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR)

a structured relaxation program based on elements of mindfulness
meditation
minimally conscious state (MCS)
a disordered state of consciousness marked by the ability to show some
behaviours that suggest at least partial consciousness, even if on an
inconsistent basis
misinformation effect
when information occurring after an event becomes part of the memory
for that event
mnemonic
a technique intended to improve memory for specific information
mode
the category with the highest frequency (that is, the category with the
most observations)
monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs)

work by deactivating monoamine oxidase (MAO), an enzyme that breaks
down serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine at the synaptic clefts of

nerve cells
monocular cues
depth cues that we can perceive with only one eye
monozygotic twins
twins who come from a single ovum (egg), which makes them genetically
identical (almost 100% genetic similarity)
mood-dependent memory
people remember better if their mood at retrieval matches their mood
during encoding
mood stabilizers
drugs used to prevent or reduce the severity of mood swings experienced

by people with bipolar disorder
morphemes
the smallest meaningful unit of a language
motivation
concerns the physiological and psychological processes underlying the
initiation of behaviours that direct organisms toward specific goals
MRI
see magnetic resonance imaging
multimodal integration
the ability to combine sensation from different modalities such as vision

and hearing into a single integrated perception
multiple intelligences
a model claiming that there are eight (now updated to at least nine)
different forms of intelligence, each independent from the others
multiple personality disorder

see dissociative identity disorder
multiple sclerosis
a disease in which the immune system does not recognize myelin and
attacks it—a process that can devastate the structural and functional
integrity of the nervous system
myelin
a fatty sheath that insulates axons from one another, resulting in
increased speed and efficiency of neural communication
naive realism
the assumption that the way we see things is the way that they are
narcissistic personality disorder (NPD)

characterized by an inflated sense of self-importance and an excessive
need for attention and admiration, as well as intense self-doubt and fear
of abandonment
narcolepsy
a disorder in which a person experiences extreme daytime sleepiness and
even sleep attacks
natural selection
the process by which favourable traits become increasingly common in a
population of interbreeding individuals, while traits that are unfavourable
become less common
naturalistic observations
observations that unobtrusively observe and record behaviour as it occurs
in the subject’s natural environment
nature and nurture relationships

the inquiry into how heredity (nature) and environment (nurture)
influence behaviour and mental processes
need to belong
the motivation to maintain relationships that involve pleasant feelings
such as warmth, affection, appreciation, and mutual concern for each
person’s well-being
negative affectivity
the tendency to respond to problems with a pattern of anxiety, hostility,
anger, guilt or nervousness
negative punishment
occurs when a behaviour decreases because it removes or diminishes a

particular stimulus
negative reinforcement
involves the strengthening of a behaviour because it removes or
diminishes a stimulus
negative symptoms
the absence of adaptive behaviour, such as absent or flat emotional
reactions, lack of interacting with others in a social setting, and lack of
motivation
negatively skewed distribution
a distribution in which the curve has an extended tail to the left of the
cluster
neglect (or visual neglect)

a situation in which the patient does not attend to anything that appears
in the left half of his or her visual field
neurodevelopmental hypothesis
the adult manifestation of what we call “schizophrenia” is the outgrowth
of disrupted neurological development early in the person’s life
neurogenesis
the formation of new neurons
neurons
one of the major types of cells found in the nervous system, which are
responsible for sending and receiving messages throughout the body
neuroplasticity
the capacity of the brain to change and rewire itself based on individual
experience
neurotransmitters
the chemicals that function as messengers allowing neurons to
communicate with each other
night terrors
intense bouts of panic and arousal that awaken the individual, typically in
a heightened emotional state
nightmares
particularly vivid and disturbing dreams that occur during REM sleep
nociception
the activity of nerve pathways that respond to uncomfortable stimulation
nomothetic approach
examines personality in large groups of people, with the aim of making
generalizations about personality structure
non-declarative memories
include actions or behaviours that you can remember and perform

without awareness
nootropic substances
substances that are believed to beneficially affect intelligence
noradrenaline
see norepinephrine
norepinephrine
(also known as noradrenaline) a monoamine synthesized from dopamine
molecules that is involved in regulating stress responses, including
increasing arousal, attention, and heart rate
normal distribution
a symmetrical distribution with values clustered around a central, mean
value
normative influence
the result of a social pressure to adopt a group’s perspective in order to be
accepted, rather than rejected, by a group
null hypothesis
assumes that any differences between groups (or conditions) are due to
chance
NPD
see narcissistic personality disorder
obesity
a disorder of positive energy balance, in which energy intake exceeds
energy expenditure
object permanence
the ability to understand that objects exist even when they cannot be
directly perceived
object relations therapy

a variation of psychodynamic therapy that focuses on how early
childhood experiences and emotional attachments influence later
psychological functioning
objective measurements
the measure of an entity or behaviour that, within an allowed margin of

error, is consistent across instruments and observers
observational learning
involves changes in behaviour and knowledge that result from watching
others
obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD)

plagued by unwanted, inappropriate, and persistent thoughts
(obsessions), and tending to engage in repetitive, almost ritualistic,
behaviours (compulsions)
occipital lobes
located at the rear of the brain and are where visual information is
processed
OCD
see obsessive–compulsive disorder
olfactory bulb
a structure on the bottom surface of the frontal lobes that serves as the
brain’s central region for processing smells
olfactory epithelium
a thin layer of cells that are lined by sensory receptors called cilia
olfactory system
involved in smell—the detection of airborne particles with specialized
receptors located in the nose
operant conditioning
a type of learning in which behaviour is influenced by consequences
operational definitions
statements that describe the procedures (or operations) and specific
measures that are used to record observations
opiates
(also called narcotics) drugs such as heroin and morphine that reduce
pain and induce extremely intense feelings of euphoria
opponent-process theory
a theory of colour perception stating that we perceive colour in terms of
opposing pairs: red to green, yellow to blue, and white to black
optic chiasm
the point at which the optic nerves cross at the midline of the brain
optic nerve
a dense bundle of fibres that connect to the brain
optimism
the tendency to have a favourable, constructive view on situations and to
expect positive outcomes
ostracism
being ignored or excluded from social contact
outgroups
those “other” groups that we don’t identify with
oxytocin
a stress-sensitive hormone that is typically associated with maternal
bonding and social relationships
panic attacks
brief moments of extreme anxiety that include a rush of physical activity
paired with frightening thoughts
panic disorder
an anxiety disorder marked by occasional episodes of sudden, very
intense fear
paranoid personality disorder (PDP)

individuals are consistently preoccupied by the belief that other people
are attempting to harm or deceive them; they often react with anger to
these imagined social or physical threats
paranoid schizophrenia
symptoms include delusional beliefs that one is being followed, watched,
or persecuted, and may also include delusions of grandeur or the belief
that one has some secret, insight, power, or some other characteristic that
makes one particularly special
parasitic processing
mutually reinforcing feedback loops linking different cognitive and neural
processes together
parasympathetic nervous system

helps maintain homeostatic balance in the presence of change; following
sympathetic arousal, it works to return the body to a baseline,
nonemergency state
Parkinson’s disease
a neurological disorder involving tremors and difficulties making
movements
parietal lobes
involved in our experiences of touch as well our bodily awareness
partial reinforcement
only a certain number of responses are rewarded, or a certain amount of
time must pass before reinforcement is available
partial reinforcement effect

a phenomenon in which organisms that have been conditioned under
partial reinforcement resist extinction longer than those conditioned
under continuous reinforcement
passionate love
associated with a physical and emotional longing for the other person
Pavlovian conditioning
see classical conditioning
peer review
a process in which papers submitted for publication in scholarly journals
are read and critiqued by experts in the specific field of study
perception
involves attending to, organizing, and interpreting stimuli that we sense
perceptual constancy
the ability to perceive objects as having constant shape, size, and colour
despite changes in perspective
performance motive
see extrinsic motivation
peripheral nervous system (PNS)

a division of the nervous system that transmits signals between the brain
and the rest of the body and is divided into two subcomponents, the
somatic system and the autonomic system
peripheral route to persuasion

depends upon features that are not directly related to the message itself,
such as the attractiveness of the person delivering the information
persistent vegetative state

state of minimal to no consciousness in which the patient’s eyes may be
open, and the individual will develop sleep–wake cycles without clear
signs of consciousness
person perception
the processes by which individuals categorize and form judgments about
other people
personal unconscious
a vast repository of experiences and patterns that are absorbed during the
entire experiential unfolding of the person’s life
personality
a characteristic pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving that is unique to
each individual, and remains relatively consistent over time and
situations
personality disorders
particularly unusual patterns of behaviour (relative to one’s cultural
context), that are maladaptive, distressing to oneself or others, and
resistant to change
personality psychology
the study of how different personality characteristics can influence how
we think and act
personality trait
a specific psychological characteristic that makes up part of a person’s
personality
person-centred perspective
founded on the assumption that people are basically good, and given the
right environment their personality will develop fully and normally
person-centred therapy
see client-centred therapy
pessimism
the tendency to have a negative perception of life and expect negative

outcomes
pessimistic explanatory style
the tendency to interpret and explain negative events as internally based
(i.e., as being due to that person rather than to an external situation) and
as a constant, stable quality
PET
see positron emission tomography
phantom limb sensations

frequently experienced by amputees, who report pain and other
sensations coming from the absent limb
phenomenological approach
the therapist addresses the clients’ feelings and thoughts as they unfold in
the present moment, rather than looking for unconscious motives or
dwelling in the past
phenotype
the physical traits and behavioural characteristics that show genetic
variation, such as eye colour, the shape and size of facial features,
intelligence, and even personality
phobia
a severe, irrational fear of a very specific object or situation
phonemes
the most basic of unit of speech sounds
phonological loop
a storage component of working memory that relies on rehearsal and that
stores information as sounds, or an auditory code
phrenology
the theory that personality characteristics could be assessed by carefully
measuring the outer skull
physical dependence
the need to take a drug to ward off unpleasant physical withdrawal
symptoms
pitch
the perceptual experience of sound wave frequencies
pituitary gland
the master gland of the endocrine system that produces hormones and
sends commands about hormone production to the other glands of the
endocrine system
place theory of hearing

how we perceive pitch is based on the location (place) along the basilar
membrane that sound stimulates
placebo effect
a measurable and experienced improvement in health or behaviour that
cannot be attributable to a medication or treatment
polysomnography
a set of objective measurements used to examine physiological variables
during sleep
population
the group that researchers want to generalize about
positive psychology
uses scientific methods to study human strengths and potential
positive punishment
a process in which a behaviour decreases in frequency because it was
followed by a particular, usually unpleasant, stimulus
positive reinforcement
the strengthening of behaviour after potential reinforcers such as praise,
money, or nourishment follow that behaviour
positive symptoms
the presence of maladaptive behaviours, such as confused and paranoid
thinking, and inappropriate emotional reactions
positively skewed distribution

a distribution in which the long tail is on the right of the cluster
positron emission tomography (or PET)
a type of scan in which a low level of a radioactive isotope is injected into

the blood, and its movement to regions of the brain engaged in a
particular task is measured
postconventional morality
considers rules and laws as relative
postsynaptic cell (or postsynaptic neuron)

is the neuron that receives neurotransmitters from the presynaptic cell
post-traumatic growth
the capacity to grow and experience long-term positive effects in
response to negative events
post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)
is a common psychological illness involving recurring thoughts, images,

and nightmares associated with a traumatic event; it induces symptoms of
tension and anxiety and can seriously interfere with many aspects of a
person’s life
pragmatics
the study of nonlinguistic elements of language use
preconventional morality
characterized by self-interest in seeking reward or avoiding punishment
prejudice
affective, emotionally laden responses to members of outgroups,
including holding negative attitudes and making critical judgments of

other groups
preoperational stage
(ages two to seven) the stage of development devoted to language
development, using symbols, pretend play, and mastering the concept of
conservation
preparedness
the biological predisposition to rapidly learn a response to a particular
class of stimuli
preserve and protect hypothesis

suggests that two adaptive functions of sleep are preserving energy and
protecting the organism from harm
preterm infant
an infant born earlier than 36 weeks of gestation
presynaptic cell (or presynaptic neuron) presynaptic cell
is the neuron that releases its neurotransmitters into the synapse
primary auditory cortex

a major perceptual centre of the brain involved in perceiving what we
hear
primary reinforcers
reinforcing stimuli that satisfy basic motivational needs—needs that affect
an individual’s ability to survive (and, if possible, reproduce)
primary sex traits

changes in the body that are part of reproduction
priming
the activation of individual concepts in long-term memory
principle of parsimony
the simplest of all competing explanations (the most “parsimonious”) of a
phenomenon should be the one we accept
proactive interference
a process in which the first information learned (e.g., in a list of words)
occupies memory, leaving fewer resources to remember the newer
information
problem solving
accomplishing a goal when the solution or the path to the solution is not
clear
problem-solving theory
the theory that thoughts and concerns are continuous from waking to
sleeping, and that dreams may function to facilitate finding solutions to
problems encountered while awake
procedural memories
patterns of muscle movements (motor memory)
prodromal phase
phase of schizophrenia during which people may become easily confused
and have difficulty organizing their thoughts, they may lose interest and
begin to withdraw from friends and family, and they may lose their
normal motivations, withdraw from life, and spend increasing amounts of
time alone, often deeply engrossed in their own thoughts
projective tests
personality tests in which ambiguous images are presented to an
individual to elicit responses that reflect unconscious desires or conflicts
prosopagnosia
an inability to recognize faces or face blindness
prototype
a mental representation of an average category member
pseudoscience
an idea that is presented as science but does not actually utilize basic
principles of scientific thinking or procedure
psychedelics
substances that produce perceptual distortions
psychiatrists
medical doctors who specialize in mental health and who are allowed to
diagnose and treat mental disorders primarily through prescribing
medications
psychoactive drugs
substances that affect thinking, behaviour, perception, and emotion
psychoanalysis
a psychological approach that attempts to explain how behaviour and
personality are influenced by unconscious processes
psychodynamic therapies
forms of insight therapy that emphasize the need to discover and resolve
unconscious conflicts
psychological dependence
occurs when emotional need for a drug develops without any underlying
physical dependence
psychology
the scientific study of behaviour, thought, and experience, and how they
can be affected by physical, mental, social, and environmental factors
psychoneuroimmunology
the study of the relationship between immune system and nervous
system functioning
psychopharmacotherapy
the use of drugs to attempt to manage or reduce clients’ symptoms
psychophysics
the study of the relationship between the physical world and the mental
representation of that world
psychotropic drugs
medications designed to alter psychological functioning
PTSD
see post-traumatic stress disorder
punisher
a stimulus that is contingent upon a response, and that results in a
decrease in behaviour
punishment
a process that decreases the future probability of a response
pupil
regulates the amount of light that enters the eye by changing its size; it
dilates (expands) to allow more light to enter and constricts (shrinks) to
allow less light into the eye
qualitative research
examining an issue or behaviour without performing numerical
measurements of the variables
quantitative research
examining an issue or behaviour by using numerical measurements
and/or statistics
quasi-experimental research
a research technique in which the two or more groups that are compared
are selected based on predetermined characteristics, rather than random
assignment
random assignment
a technique for dividing samples into two or more groups in which
participants are equally likely to be placed in any condition of the
experiment
random sample
a sampling technique in which every individual of a population has an
equal chance of being included
Raven’s Progressive Matrices

an intelligence test that is based on pictures, not words, thus making it
relatively unaffected by language or cultural background
recall
retrieving information when asked but without that information being
present during the retrieval process
reciprocal determinism
behaviour, internal (personal) factors, and external (situational) factors
interact to determine one another, and our personalities are based on
interactions among these three aspects
recognition
identifying a stimulus or piece of information when it is presented to you
reconsolidation
in which the hippocampus functions to update, strengthen, or modify
existing long-term memories
recovered memory
a memory of a traumatic event that is suddenly recovered after blocking
the memory of that event for a long period of time
recovered memory controversy

a heated debate among psychologists about the validity of recovered
memories
reflexes
involuntary muscular reactions to specific types of stimulation
refractory period
(1) brief period in which a neuron cannot fire; (2) a time period during
which erection and orgasm are not physically possible
rehearsal
repeating information until you do not need to remember it anymore
reinforcement
a process in which an event or reward that follows a response increases
the likelihood of that response occurring again
reinforcer
a stimulus that is contingent upon a response, and that increases the
probability of that response occurring again
reliability
consistent and stable answers across multiple observations and points in
time
REM behaviour disorder
a condition that does not show the typical restriction of movement during
REM sleep; in fact, they appear to be acting out the content of their
dreams
REM sleep
a stage of sleep characterized by quickening brain waves, inhibited body
movement, and rapid eye movements (REM)
repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS)

a therapeutic technique in which a focal area of the brain is exposed to a
powerful magnetic field across several different treatment sessions
replication
the process of repeating a study and finding a similar outcome each time
representativeness heuristic
making judgments of likelihood based on how well an example
represents a specific category
research design
a set of methods that allows a hypothesis to be tested
research ethics board (REB)

a committee of researchers and officials at an institution charged with the
protection of research participants
residential treatment centres
housing facilities in which residents receive psychological therapy and life

skills training with the explicit goal of helping residents become re-
integrated into society
residual phase
phase of schizophrenia during which people’s predominant symptoms
have disappeared or lessened considerably, and they may simply be
withdrawn, have trouble concentrating, and generally lack motivation
residual schizophrenia
This category reflects individuals who show some symptoms of
schizophrenia but are either in transition to a full-blown episode or in
remission
resilience
the ability to effectively recover from illness or adversity
resistance
when the patient engages in strategies that keep unconscious thoughts or
motivations that they wish to avoid from fully manifesting in conscious
awareness
response styles
characteristic ways of responding to questions
resting potential
relatively stable state during which the cell is not transmitting messages
restore and repair hypothesis

the idea that the body needs to restore energy levels and repair any wear
and tear experienced during the day’s activities
reticular formation
extends from the medulla upwards to the midbrain and is involved with
attention and alertness
retina
lines the inner surface of the eye and consists of specialized receptors that
absorb light and send signals related to the properties of light to the brain
retinal disparity
(also called binocular disparity) the difference in relative position of an
object as seen by both eyes, which provides information to the brain
about depth
retrieval
brings information from LTM back into STM
retroactive interference
the most recently learned information overshadows some older memories
that have not yet made it into long-term memory
retrograde amnesia
a condition in which memory for the events preceding trauma or injury is
lost
reuptake
a process whereby neurotransmitter molecules that have been released
into the synapse are reabsorbed into the axon terminals of the
presynaptic neuron
right-wing authoritarianism (RWA)

a problematic set of personality characteristics that also predisposes
people to certain types of violent or anti-social tendencies: (1) obeying
orders and deferring to the established authorities in a society; (2)
supporting aggression against those who dissent or differ from the
established social order; and (3) believing strongly in maintaining the
existing social order
rods
photoreceptors that occupy peripheral regions of the retina; they are
highly sensitive under low light levels
Rorschach inkblot test

a test in which people are asked to describe what they see on an inkblot,
and psychologists interpret this description using a standardized scoring
and interpretation method
rTMS
see repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation
rule-based categorization
categorizing objects or events according to a certain set of rules or by a
specific set of features
RWA
see right-wing Authoritarianism
salvia divinorum
an herb that grows in Central and South America. When smoked or
chewed, salvia induces highly intense but short-lived hallucinations
sample
a select group of population members
satiation
the point in a meal when we are no longer motivated to eat
savant
an individual with low mental capacity in most domains but extraordinary
abilities in other specific areas such as music, mathematics, or art
scaffolding
a highly attentive approach to teaching in which the teacher matches
guidance to the learner’s needs
schedules of reinforcement
rules that determine when reinforcement is available
schemas
organized clusters of memories that constitute one’s knowledge about
events, objects, and ideas
schizoid personality disorder

an individual is socially detached; he or she does not desire close
relationships, including being part of a family, and takes little pleasure in
most activities
schizophrenia
a brain disease that causes the person to experience significant breaks
from reality, a lack of integration of thoughts and emotions, and problems
with attention and memory
schizotypal personality disorder

a discomfort with close relationships as well as unusual or eccentric
thoughts and behaviours
scientific literacy
the ability to understand, analyze, and apply scientific information
scientific method
a way of learning about the world through collecting observations,
developing theories to explain them, and using the theories to make
predictions
sclera
is the white, outer surface of the eye
secondary reinforcers
stimuli that acquire their reinforcing effects only after we learn that they
have value
secondary sex traits

changes in the body that are not part of reproduction
sedative drugs
sometimes referred to as “downers,” depress activity of the central
nervous system
selective attention
involves focusing on one particular event or task
selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)
a class of antidepressant drugs that block the reuptake of the

neurotransmitter serotonin
self-actualization
the point at which a person reaches his or her full potential as a creative,
deep-thinking, and accepting human being
self-awareness
the ability to recognize one’s individuality
self-determination theory
an individual’s ability to achieve their goals and attain psychological well-
being is influenced by the degree to which he or she is in control of the
behaviours necessary to achieve those goals
self-efficacy
an individual’s confidence that he or she can plan and execute a course of
action in order to solve a problem
self-fulfilling prophecies
a first impression (or an expectation) affects one’s behaviour, and then
that affects other people’s behaviour, leading one to “confirm” the initial
impression or expectation
self-reference effect
occurs when you think about information in terms of how it relates to you
or how it is useful to you; this type of encoding will lead to you
remembering that information better than you otherwise would have
self-reporting
a method in which responses are provided directly by the people who are
being studied, typically through face-to-face interviews, phone surveys,
paper and pencil tests, and web-based questionnaires
self-serving biases
biased ways of processing self-relevant information to enhance our
positive self-evaluation
semantic memories
declarative memories that include facts about the world
semantic network
an interconnected set of nodes (or concepts) and the links that join them
to form a category
semantics
the study of how people come to understand meaning from words
semicircular canals
three fluid-filled canals found in the inner ear that respond when the
head moves in different directions (up-down, left-right, forward-
backward)
sensation
the process of detecting external events with sense organs and turning
those stimuli into neural signals
sensitive period
a window of time during which exposure to a specific type of
environmental stimulation is needed for normal development of a specific
ability
sensorimotor stage
from birth to two years, a time during which infants’ thinking about and
exploration of the world are based on immediate sensory (e.g., seeing,
feeling) and motor (e.g., grabbing, mouthing) experiences
sensory adaptation
the reduction of activity in sensory receptors with repeated exposure to a
stimulus
sensory memory
a memory store that accurately holds perceptual information for a very
brief amount of time
serial position effect
in general, most people will recall the first few items from a list and the
last few items, but only an item or two from the middle
serotonin
a monoamine involved in regulating mood, sleep, aggression, and
appetite
set point
a hypothesized mechanism that serves to maintain body weight around a
physiologically programmed level
sex guilt
negative emotional feelings for having violated culturally accepted
standards of appropriate sexual behaviour
sexual orientation
the consistent preference for sexual relations with members of the
opposite sex (heterosexuality), same sex (homosexuality), or either sex
(bisexuality)
sexual response cycle

the phases of physiological change during sexual activity, which
comprises four primary stages: excitement, plateau, orgasm, and
resolution
sexual scripts
the set of rules and assumptions about the sexual behaviours of males
and females
shallow processing
encoding more superficial properties of a stimulus, such as the sound or
spelling of a word
sham group (or sham lesion group)

a set of animals that go through all of the surgical procedures aside from
the lesion itself in order to control for the effects of stress, anesthesia, and
the annoyance of stitches. An example of the lesion method is found in
studies of spatial learning
shaping
reinforcing successive approximations of a specific operant response
short-term memory (STM)

a memory store with limited capacity and duration (approximately 30
seconds)
signal detection theory

whether a stimulus is perceived depends on both sensory experience and
judgments made by the subject
single-blind study
a study in which participants do not know the true purpose of the study,
or else do not know which type of treatment they are receiving (for
example, a placebo or a drug)
situational attributions
see external attribution
sleep apnea
a disorder characterized by the temporary inability to breathe during
sleep
sleep deprivation
occurs when an individual cannot or does not sleep
sleep displacement
occurs when an individual is prevented from sleeping at the normal time
although she or he may be able to sleep earlier or later in the day than
usual
social anxiety disorder

a very strong fear of being judged by others or being embarrassed or
humiliated in public
social contagion
the often subtle, unintentional spreading of a behaviour as a result of
social interactions
social desirability (or socially desirable responding)

research participants respond in ways that increase the chances that they
will be viewed favourably
social facilitation
occurs when one’s performance is affected by the presence of others
social loafing
occurs when an individual puts less effort into working on a task with
others
social norms
the (usually unwritten) guidelines for how to behave in social contexts
social psychology
the study of the influence of other people on our behaviour
social resilience
the ability to keep positive relationships and to endure and recover from
social isolation and life stressors
social roles
are guidelines that apply to specific positions within the group
social-cognitive theory
explains hypnosis by emphasizing the degree to which beliefs and
expectations contribute to increased suggestibility
socioemotional selectivity theory

describes how older people have learned to select for themselves more
positive and nourishing experiences
soma
see cell body
somatic nervous system

consists of nerves that control skeletal muscles, which are responsible for
voluntary and reflexive movement; it also consists of nerves that receive
sensory input from the body
somnambulism
or sleepwalking, a disorder that involves wandering and performing other
activities while asleep
sound localization
the process of identifying where sound comes from
source memory
the memory for how or where information was initially acquired
specific phobia
an intense fear of a specific object, activity, or organism
spermarche
during puberty, a male’s first ejaculation of sperm
spontaneous recovery
the reoccurrence of a previously extinguished conditioned response,
typically after some time has passed since extinction
SSRIs
see selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors
standard deviation
a measure of variability around the mean
Stanford-Binet test
a test intended to measure innate levels of intelligence
state
a temporary physical or psychological engagement that influences
behaviour
state-dependent memory
memory retrieval is more effective when your internal state matches the
state you were in during encoding
statistical significance
the means of the groups are farther apart than you would expect them to
be by random chance alone
stem cells
a unique type of cell that does not have a predestined function
stereotype
a cognitive structure, a set of beliefs about the characteristics that are held
by members of a specific social group; these beliefs function as schemas,
serving to guide how we process information about our social world
stereotype threat
occurs when negative stereotypes about a group cause group members to
underperform on ability tests
stimulants
a category of drugs that speed up the nervous system, typically enhancing
wakefulness and alertness
STM
see short-term memory
storage
the time and manner in which information is retained between encoding
and retrieval
stores
retain information in memory without using it for any specific purpose
strange situation
a way of measuring infant attachment by observing how infants behave
when exposed to different experiences that involve anxiety and comfort
stress
a psychological and physiological reaction that occurs when perceived
demands exceed existing resources to meet those demands

structural neuroimaging
a type of brain scanning that produces images of the different structures

of the brain
structuralism
an attempt to analyze conscious experience by breaking it down into
basic elements, and to understand how these elements work together
subliminal perception
perception below the threshold of conscious awareness
superego
comprised of our values and moral standards
sympathetic nervous system

responsible for the fight-or-flight response of an increased heart rate,
dilated pupils, and decreased salivary flow—responses that prepare the
body for action
synapses
an area consisting of a neuron’s axon terminals and a different neuron’s
dendrites; these structures are separated by a microscopic space into
which neurotransmitters can be released
synaptic cleft
the minute space between the axon terminal (terminal button) and the
dendrite
synaptic pruning
the loss of weak nerve cell connections
synaptogenesis
the forming of new synaptic connections
syntax
the rules for combining words and morphemes into meaningful phrases
and sentences
systematic desensitization
gradual exposure to a feared stimulus or situation is coupled with
relaxation training
systems approach
an orientation that encourages therapists to see an individual’s symptoms

as being influenced by many different interacting systems
tardive dyskinesia
a movement disorder involving involuntary movements and facial tics
TAT
see Thematic Apperception Test
temporal lobes
located at the sides of the brain near the ears and are involved in hearing,
language, and some higher-level aspects of vision such as object and face
recognition
teratogens
substances, such as drugs or environmental toxins, that impair the
process of fetal development
terror management theory (TMT)

a psychological perspective asserting that the human fear of mortality
motivates behaviour, particularly those that preserve self-esteem and our
sense of belonging
testing effect
the finding that taking practice tests can improve exam performance, even
without additional studying
testosterone
a hormone that is involved in the development of sex characteristics and
the motivation of sexual behaviour
thalamus
a set of nuclei involved in relaying sensory information to different
regions of the brain
Thematic Apperception Test (TAT)

a test in which respondents are asked to tell stories about ambiguous
pictures involving various interpersonal situations
theory
an explanation for a broad range of observations that also generates new
hypotheses and integrates numerous findings into a coherent whole
theory of mind
the ability to understand that other people have thoughts, beliefs, and
perspectives that may be different from one’s own
therapeutic alliance
the relationship between the therapist and the patient that emerges in
therapy
thin slices of behaviour
very small samples of a person’s behaviour
third variable problem

the possibility that a third, unmeasured variable is actually responsible for
a well-established correlation between two variables
tip-of-the-tongue (TOT) phenomenon

when you are able to retrieve similar sounding words or words that start
with the same letter but can’t quite retrieve the word you actually want
TMT
see terror management theory
tolerance
when repeated use of a drug results in a need for a higher dose to get the
intended effect
top-down processing
when our perceptions are influenced by our expectations or by our prior
knowledge
Tourette’s syndrome
a condition marked by erratic and repetitive facial and muscle movements
(called tics), heavy eye blinking, and frequent noise making such as
grunting, snorting, or sniffing
transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS)

a procedure in which an electromagnetic pulse is delivered to a targeted
region of the brain
transduction
takes place when specialized receptors transform the physical energy of
the outside world into neural impulses
transference
a psychodynamic process whereby patients direct certain patterns or
emotional experiences toward the analyst, rather than the original person
involved in the experiences (e.g., their parents)
transgender
individuals who experience a mismatch between the gender that they
identify with and their biological sex
transsexual
the subset of transgender individuals who wish to permanently transition

from their birth sex to the gender with which they identify
triarchic theory of intelligence

a theory that divides intelligence into three distinct types: analytical,
practical, and creative
trichromatic theory (Young-Helmholtz theory)

maintains that colour vision is determined by three different cone types
that are sensitive to short, medium, and long wavelengths of light
tricyclic antidepressants
appear to work by blocking the reuptake of serotonin and norepinephrine
trophic factors
chemicals that stimulate the growth of new dendrites and axons
two-factor theory
patterns of physical arousal and the cognitive labels we attach to them
form the basis of our emotional experiences
Type A personality
people who tend to be impatient and worry about time, and are easily
angered, competitive, and highly motivated
Type B personality
people who are more laid back and characterized by a patient, easygoing,
and relaxed disposition
unconditioned response (UR)

a reflexive, unlearned reaction to an unconditioned stimulus
unconditioned stimulus (US)

a stimulus that elicits a reflexive response without learning
unconscious mind
a vast and powerful but inaccessible part of your consciousness, operating
without your conscious endorsement or will to influence and guide your
behaviours
undifferentiated schizophrenia
This category includes individuals who show a combination of symptoms
from more than one type of schizophrenia
unit bias
the tendency to assume that the unit of sale or portioning is an
appropriate amount to consume
UR
see unconditioned response
US
see unconditioned stimulus
validity
the degree to which an instrument or procedure actually measures what it
claims to measure
variability
the degree to which scores are dispersed in a distribution
variable
the object, concept, or event being measured
variable-interval schedule
the first response is reinforced following a variable amount of time
variable-ratio schedule
the number of responses required to receive reinforcement varies
according to an average
ventral stream
a neural circuit for vision that extends from the visual cortex to the lower
part of the temporal lobe
vestibular sacs
structures that influence your ability to detect when your head is no
longer in an upright position
vestibular system
a sensory system in the ear that provides information about spatial
orientation of the head as well as head motion
virtual reality exposure (VRE)

a treatment that uses graphical displays to create an experience in which
the client seems to be immersed in an actual environment
visuospatial sketchpad
a storage component of working memory that maintains visual images
and spatial layouts in a visuospatial code
weapon focus
the tendency to focus on a weapon at the expense of peripheral
information including the identity of the person holding the weapon
Weber’s law
states that the just noticeable difference between two stimuli changes as a
proportion of those stimuli
Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale (WAIS)

the most common intelligence test in use today for adolescents and adults
Wernicke’s area
the area of the brain most associated with finding the meaning of words
Whorfian hypothesis
see linguistic relativity
within-subjects design
an experimental design in which the same participants respond to all
types of stimuli or experience all experimental conditions
word-length effect
people remember more one-syllable words than four- or five-syllable
words in a short-term-memory task
working memory
a model of short-term remembering that includes a combination of
memory components that can temporarily store small amounts of
information for a short period of time
Young-Helmholtz theory
see trichromatic theory
zeitgeist
refers to a general set of beliefs of a particular culture at a specific time in
history
zone of proximal development

the concept that development is ideal when children attempt skills and
activities that are just beyond what they can do alone, but they have
guidance from adults who are attentive to their progress
zygote
the initial cell formed when the nuclei of egg and sperm fuse
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ISBN 978-0-13-542412-4
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Title: An introduction to psychological science / Mark Krause (Southern
Oregon University), Daniel Corts (Augustana College), Stephen Smith
(University of Winnipeg) Names: Krause, Mark A. (Mark Andrew),
author. | Corts, Daniel Paul, author. | Smith, Stephen, author.
Description: Third Canadian edition. | Includes bibliographical
references and index. Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 20190169974 |
Canadiana (ebook) 20190169982 | ISBN 9780135424179 (softcover;

Instructor’s edition) | ISBN 9780135424124 (ebook) | ISBN
9780135423950 (looseleaf edition)

Subjects: LCSH: Psychology—Textbooks. | LCGFT: Textbooks.
Classification: LCC BF121 .K73 2019 | DDC 150—dc23

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Mark Krause Daniel Corts Stephen Smith An Introduction To Psychological

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Mark Krause Daniel Corts Stephen Smith An Introduction To Psychological

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About Revel and This Course

About This Course

It is our privilege to welcome you to the third Canadian edition of An

Introduction to Psychological Science. We would not have had this

opportunity without the support and feedback of the instructors who

As you should already know, psychological science progresses quickly,

and we want to ensure we represent significant advances or theoretical

and we want to include these in the learning experience, whether in the

latest research and current events, we also want to improve on our

presentation of classic studies, research methods, and so on that remain

better—we believe we have, in fact, done better!

not be the ultimate objective of your introduction to psychology; instead

literacy emphasizes your ability to encounter, understand, and evaluate

scientific information. Scientific literacy comprises four interrelated

1. Knowledge: What do we know about a phenomenon?

2. Scientific explanation: How does science explain the psychological

process we are examining?

3. Critical thinking: How do we interpret and evaluate all types of

scientific literacy model (shown in the graphic) as a guide. This

scientific literacy, whereas the multidirectional arrows show their

not sound data and reasoning to support it (Scientific Explanation and

An Introduction to Psychological Science presents students with a model for

prove useful in addressing two course needs we often hear from

overwhelming amount of information they are confronted with, and to

Psychological science is in a privileged position to help students hone

their scientific literacy. It is both a rigorous scientific discipline and a field

cognitive, and biological basis of behaviour. With this focus on

with neuroscience, education, and public health, to name a few linkages.

In the third Canadian edition of this textbook, we have continued our

Mark Krause: krausema@sou.edu

Daniel Corts: danielcorts@augustana.edu

Stephen Smith: s.smith@uwinnipeg.ca

Science gave us a new appreciation for how important Canadian

researchers have been to the study of psychological science. Although

Canada is a relatively small country (in population and the number of

research institutions), Canadian researchers have made incredibly

important contributions are again highlighted in the third Canadian

edition. We have also continued to focus on issues that are of particular

relevance to Canadians, including bilingualism, environmental

psychology, and the experiences of first- and second-generation

As introductory psychology professors ourselves, we had a chance to use

edition of our textbook provides us with an opportunity to (1) add new,

result of feedback and discussions with students in Winnipeg (as well as a

few much-appreciated emails from students at other institutions).

media. These technological advances have brought about psychological

changes. We study, work, relax, and socialize differently because many of

order to get readers thinking critically about psychology in our electronic

topics such as how to deal with misinformation on the internet, the

good substitute for old-fashioned, face-to-face contact. Importantly, this

section is not entirely negative! This feature also highlights potential

benefits of the wired world, such as providing internet-based therapy for

people who live in remote locations.

reflect the latest discoveries in psychology. Indeed, we have added new

topics to all 16 chapters in the book. Here are some examples:

• Chapter 1, Introducing Psychological Science, describes the foundations

of psychology, which are unlikely to change: the nature of science,

scientific literacy, and especially critical thinking. However, the world

around us is definitely changing. To keep up with the times, Chapter 1

chapter as a way of illustrating how psychology is found in the digital

shows the importance of our foundational concepts when we encounter

information online. How can we tell science from pseudoscience, where

• Chapter 2, Reading and Evaluating Scientific Research, features updated

• Chapter 3, Biological Psychology, includes a more streamlined